Moving right along
So yes, I've already registered and the term has already started, but I'm waiting to attend all my classes at least once before blogging about that (and updating the sidebar). So instead I'll remark on how seven months have passed since I first came to Japan and how I only have one term left at ICU (if all goes well). Other than that...
Have you ever had one of those moments where you sit back and realize, "Wow, my parents raised me right"? (I have never quite understood how punctuation in a situation like that is supposed to work.) And I'm not just saying this because my parents read my blog (though everyone knows I could use the brownie points... if they fell for that sort of thing ^_~).
Tuesday after my first day of classes, I was to meet Suzuki-sensei. A lot has happened while I was incommunicado, which I don't see any point in relaying now. Long story short, we were meeting because she had agreed to proofread my "Student Life Report" for the ITO Foundation. There was another student with her when I arrived, so I waited down the hall without announcing myself. After a while, she walked by and noticed me. Shortly thereafter, she sat down with me right there and read over my little essay (about four pages double-spaced, probably twice as long as anything we'd ever written in class). When she finished, I told her,
"This week is my family's traditional New Year. This is just a little thing, but you've done so much for me and I'm very grateful, so I want to give it to you." I pulled out one of the silk gamoxas that my dad and I had brought from Guwahati, told her what it was called, and explained about the design on this particular one (japis).
She was surprised and told me that she was glad she'd been able to meet me and that teaching made her happy. She also said,
"This is my job. You really shouldn't worry about troubling me so much."
Job or not, I thought that's what you do. Besides being my teacher and helping me with these things for the Foundation outside of class, she's also writing one of my recommendations for Sophia. As far as I knew, when someone does something nice for you, you thank them. I told her I'd do the same thing in America. But then I realized it wasn't an American thing; it's not a Japanese thing. Maybe it's just the way I was raised. Like those stories about Elvis, who, even when he was told not to, called people "Sir."
I like me this way. I hope I can pass it on.
Anyway, I submitted the report the same day. I hadn't really known (and still don't) what "Student Life Report" meant, so I just tried to write something that gave a glimpse of what I've been feeling and thinking lately. Suzuki-sensei said it was an "essay" (as opposed to a "report") and that it was [kirei], which I can only think to translate as "pretty" or "lovely" or something of that sort. She said it really demonstrated who I was and how I felt about my experiences and stuff. So I thought, "Good, that's what I was going for."
The email I got back from the Foundation was one of surprise. "Not like a report," they said, "more like a 物語 [monogatari] (tale, story)." Fine. I didn't want it to be a boring read, after all, but then I have to wonder what they actually expected a "report" on my daily life to be like. *imagining*
"Each month I withdraw 100,000JPY. With half I pay rent; with the rest I pay bills and buy groceries etc etc. I attend classes from 8:50am to 3pm, except on Fridays when I have class until 7pm. Once or twice a week, I rehearse with my band, and ocassionally after rehearsal or a performance we go out to eat together..."
I mean, for a foundation whose purpose is "exchange," wouldn't you expect something more like a tale or story? Isn't that what studying abroad is - a big adventure?
P.S. Speaking of the band, for those of you who don't already know, it no longer exists. Our drummer is thesis-izing and job-hunting, so we won't be doing any of the gigs we already got and we won't be looking for new ones.
Have you ever had one of those moments where you sit back and realize, "Wow, my parents raised me right"? (I have never quite understood how punctuation in a situation like that is supposed to work.) And I'm not just saying this because my parents read my blog (though everyone knows I could use the brownie points... if they fell for that sort of thing ^_~).
Tuesday after my first day of classes, I was to meet Suzuki-sensei. A lot has happened while I was incommunicado, which I don't see any point in relaying now. Long story short, we were meeting because she had agreed to proofread my "Student Life Report" for the ITO Foundation. There was another student with her when I arrived, so I waited down the hall without announcing myself. After a while, she walked by and noticed me. Shortly thereafter, she sat down with me right there and read over my little essay (about four pages double-spaced, probably twice as long as anything we'd ever written in class). When she finished, I told her,
"This week is my family's traditional New Year. This is just a little thing, but you've done so much for me and I'm very grateful, so I want to give it to you." I pulled out one of the silk gamoxas that my dad and I had brought from Guwahati, told her what it was called, and explained about the design on this particular one (japis).
She was surprised and told me that she was glad she'd been able to meet me and that teaching made her happy. She also said,
"This is my job. You really shouldn't worry about troubling me so much."
Job or not, I thought that's what you do. Besides being my teacher and helping me with these things for the Foundation outside of class, she's also writing one of my recommendations for Sophia. As far as I knew, when someone does something nice for you, you thank them. I told her I'd do the same thing in America. But then I realized it wasn't an American thing; it's not a Japanese thing. Maybe it's just the way I was raised. Like those stories about Elvis, who, even when he was told not to, called people "Sir."
I like me this way. I hope I can pass it on.
Anyway, I submitted the report the same day. I hadn't really known (and still don't) what "Student Life Report" meant, so I just tried to write something that gave a glimpse of what I've been feeling and thinking lately. Suzuki-sensei said it was an "essay" (as opposed to a "report") and that it was [kirei], which I can only think to translate as "pretty" or "lovely" or something of that sort. She said it really demonstrated who I was and how I felt about my experiences and stuff. So I thought, "Good, that's what I was going for."
The email I got back from the Foundation was one of surprise. "Not like a report," they said, "more like a 物語 [monogatari] (tale, story)." Fine. I didn't want it to be a boring read, after all, but then I have to wonder what they actually expected a "report" on my daily life to be like. *imagining*
"Each month I withdraw 100,000JPY. With half I pay rent; with the rest I pay bills and buy groceries etc etc. I attend classes from 8:50am to 3pm, except on Fridays when I have class until 7pm. Once or twice a week, I rehearse with my band, and ocassionally after rehearsal or a performance we go out to eat together..."
I mean, for a foundation whose purpose is "exchange," wouldn't you expect something more like a tale or story? Isn't that what studying abroad is - a big adventure?
P.S. Speaking of the band, for those of you who don't already know, it no longer exists. Our drummer is thesis-izing and job-hunting, so we won't be doing any of the gigs we already got and we won't be looking for new ones.
posted by Bibhatsu at 07:43
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