Felkers in Japan

The adventures of Aaron, Michelle, Ridge and Holt during their stint in Japan. Check out what Michelle has to say about her family's time in the small village of Nishiokoppe, on the island of Hokkaido.

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

Picking Pumpkins, Potty Humor, and Bread


As we enter the month of October, plans for the Nishiokoppe and Kamiokoppe Elementary Schools Halloween parties are already underway. I don’t know all the details as to how the pumpkin patch originated, but the village has a garden with wonderful pumpkins grown for the express purpose of carving. The vice-principal’s (of Nishiokoppe Elementary School) eyes widened as we arrived with a van load of about 30 pumpkins. “Ah, Japanese pumpkin small. This big!” he said.

After a group communication effort last week, the men at the village office board of education (though, mind you, it is not a Board of Education in the same sense as an American Board of Education) and I set a date for Tuesday morning for pumpkin harvesting. Apparently, they are very interested here in Nishiokoppe in Halloween, and thus grew pumpkins just for carving. Many were huge orange monsters, but some were also green still. Not knowing any better, all large pumpkins were picked, regardless of their color. Oh well, I have always wondered what a green Jack-o-lantern would look like. Anyway, we popped down the road yesterday and gathered about 40 or so. The weather was perfect: blue sky, chilly wind, the trees are beginning to put on their autumn outfits here. Aaron and the boys walked over from the house to join us, as you can see. They loved seeing the pumpkins and wanted to help carry them.

Pumpkin Patch
Holt and Pumpkins

For Halloween, we are planning to have a two-hour “festival” in the afternoon at Nishiokoppe Elementary School. Following the traditions set by former Juneau teachers, we will carve the pumpkins, bob for apples, Aaron will come do face painting (with our boys in costume, of course), and I will pass out candy to the teachers so the kiddos can go “trick-or-treating”. I’m sure I’ll have an interesting post to write after the party!

Yesterday evening was my second time to attend the “exercise club”. This is a group of people who get together once a week for two hours for the purpose of physical fitness. Last time we spent about one hour learning how to stretch and do some simple exercises. That was followed by 20 minutes of aerobics. Everyone gathers in the big room at the hotel, we sign in, get our blood pressure taken (I’ve been trying to get my friend Fusae – she is one of the better English speakers in town- to say ‘sphygnomonometer’. That’s the technical name for a blood pressure cuff), and then we get weighed. The evening is facilitated by a group of three people who drive down from another town that is about 2 hours away. Last night, we did a series of “tests” that will determine how “old” our bodies are. Fusae was worried. She is thirty-one years old and told me that last time she did this test; her “body” was over forty. We will get our results next week. I can hardly wait! We did sit-ups, a standing long jump, tested the strength of our grip, and did two more activities that I can’t really describe.

While waiting for others to finish, I sat with Fusae and another group of women who were there. We chatted (sort of, as much as I can with my limited Japanese) and ogled a baby who had come with his mom. I pointed out to Fusae that I can not squat like she and the other women were doing. All evening she had been remarking on how “great” I had done on the “tests”, so I wanted to show here there was something I can’t do. When I told her that I, and most Americans, cannot squat like that, she translated this to the other women and then you should have seen their faces! It was almost comical. Fusae said, (about squatting) “common sense!” I said that I think Americans spend so much time in chairs that the muscles in their legs are too tight for low squatting. There was a great deal of chattering amongst the women as this, too, was translated. Then I heard it – the word, “toire”. Toilet. Of course! They all began asking me how I managed to use Japanese toilets if I can’t squat (most toilets in Japan are a hole in the ground – squatting is most definitely required). I guess it had never even occurred to them that using a Japanese toilet would be any different for me. I’ll spare you the details of the entire conversation, but needless to say, it was hysterical. I explained that in most places, I have been able to find a Western style toilet. Then they shot questions at me: what about the shugakko (elementary school)? The chugakko?? (Middle school). I just kept laughing and said – the middle school has a western toilet and I have never needed to go at the elementary school. That comment got some looks, so I had to point out that I am only there for about two hours three days a week – no big deal. I wonder what they were thinking. Then Fusae, who works in the village office building where I do all my prep work wanted to know what I do there, because she knew that there are only Japanese toilets. I giggled, then mimicked looking sad, and told here that sometimes I manage, and sometimes I just walk across the street and go home. The questioning continued, getting a bit more detailed, but I think that is enough about bodily functions for one night. What a cultural experience! I never would have anticipated having a conversation about my toileting issues with a group of women who barely speak any English.

Speaking of cultural experiences, today, I experienced my first fire drill in a Japanese school. They only happen once a year, which surprised me, until I saw it in action. Here is how it went.

  1. Alarm rings, and a woman’s voice says something I can’t understand.

  2. Alarm continues to ring.

  3. Woman’s voice again…I’m still clueless.

  4. Alarm continues to ring.

  5. This time, a man’s voice is announcing something. He sounds very serious (the voices are all recorded).

  6. The classroom at the end of the hallway, furthest from the entrance, exits, followed by the second classroom from the entrance, then the first. The students crouch low and cover their mouths with cloth.

  7. The students gather outside, line up, and sit down. Orderly, of course.

  8. The vice-principal says something, then turns it over the principal.

  9. The principal speaks and then turns it over to the vice-principal

  10. The vice-principal says something, and then turns it over to one of the firemen who have come for the drill.

  11. The fireman does a lot of talking (are you getting a picture of how much I understand of what is being said around me? Not much!)

  12. The students take turns spraying water-filled fire extinguishers as fast as they can while trying to knock over signs with kanji (“Be careful around fire”). This is middle school, by the way.

  13. More talking – fire fighter and principal

  14. Clean up –students all help

  15. Return to class after cleaning your inside shoes thoroughly on a damp towel provided. We were all inside, so we were all wearing our inside shoes, which are not supposed to go outside, but since it was a drill it was okay (I asked when I realized I had, gasp! worn my inside shoes outside!)

  16. About 35 minutes have now lapsed.

Quite the fire drill, wouldn’t you say?

The last picture I have is of a package of bread I purchased the other day. I thought it might be interesting. This is very typical of bread here. The packages are very small, containing eight pieces at the most. All the bread here is “wonder bread” white and very thick. Aaron and I were actually wondering if maybe once upon a time, a meeting was held to standardize the size of bread. That’s a joke, just so you know. Traditional floors, i.e. tatami, were legally standardized back during the time of the Tokugawa Shogunate (in other words, a long time ago). So, rooms are sized by how many tatami mats can fit in them. Futons are sized to fit exactly on one tatami. Every single futon is exactly the same size, thanks to standardization. All the bread is so similar….well, you get the picture.

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