HEALTH CHECKS AND FEELINGS ON AMERICA

Two students recently returned from 10 months living in the US have started stopping by the staff room to chat and practice their English. Their English is pretty good, though it's become clear to me that they've picked up a very different kind of English from what their Japanese classmates are learning. Student Two, who lived in Indiana, kept dropping words like "sketchy," and the sarcastic use of the word "classy" in conversation. Student One, who lived in Georgia, told me that she had become quite the connoisseur of "black English," because many of her friends in Georgia are black. Even though I've heard the term "black English" from other Japanese people before, it still shocks me. I have to resist the urge to climb up on my soap box and deliver an impromptu lecture on why that term is offensive and wrong. I'm not sure that it would make much of a difference. Japan has no real point of comparison to the history of race issues in the United States. They have some abstract notion of it, such as one teacher whose subject is civics. He was talking to his class about the upcoming American presidential election. To prep for his lesson, he asked me about Romney and Obama, before inquiring, "The color- does it matter?" and then pointed at his skin.  It took me a full minute to figure out what he was talking about, and then I was appalled. But to the Japanese, it's a legitimate question, perhaps because race and ethnicity are a huge deal in their country, mainly in that anyone who is clearly not from their country is a big deal. American students visiting our school last month got a small taste of this. When I asked them if they were enjoying their time at our high school, two of the boys said, "It's so weird- they surround us wherever we go!" To which his friend replied, "Dude, it's 'cause we're black." 

I really enjoy asking students who have studied for some period of time in the States about their impressions. Mostly, they're shocked by things like the amount of sugar used in making desserts ("So sweet! Not good!"), the fact that the doors to public toilets don't go all the way down to the ground ("There is a gap! You can see the feet!"), and public displays of affection ("They were kissing! So nice. Americans are so...open." Another student differed: "So strange."). Students One and Two had a lot to say about how much they didn't like their host families, about how great it was that American high schools let you wear makeup to school, and how high school boys are stupid. "One guy asked me if I was Asian. I was like, um, yeah." Then at some point, we veered into the topic of personal grooming. They wanted to know, do I shave my arms (as in, my actual arms, not underneath)? Why do American girls shave their legs? Japanese girls don't do that. Student Two informed me that she had started shaving her pubic hair when she found out that American girls did (how she learned this fun fact, I don't want to know), and then gave me a rundown of the various problems she'd had with making alterations to that area. "I wasn't sure how much to shave, so I just got rid of all of it." It quickly became apparent by her wide-eyed stare that Student One, if not unaware of this grooming trend, had never considered trying it out herself. Still, she weighed into the conversation by asking me, "Do boys shave down there?" There was a lot of animated pointing throughout this exchange to the various body parts concerned, all while teachers and students walked past us. Yet the discomfort of this discussion pales in comparison to what happened later in the week. 

Today marks the second day this year where I have been ambushed at school and asked to remove my clothing for a medical exam without prior warning. Of course I'm behind on laundry, so I'm wearing my less-than-reputable underwear, and I ate lunch at the usual time, even though we were supposed to fast so we could have blood drawn. There was the in-depth questionnaire about my medical history translated for me by a helpful JTE in front of the whole staff room, with other teachers chiming in. "Are you taking any medications?" "Are you going to the bathroom more than normal?" And my personal favorite: "Are you pregnant?" However, nothing rivals the joy of carrying a Dixie cup of your own urine past a queue of your coworkers, who are also waiting for their health check. 

Still, I am grateful that I don't have the job of the female lab technician whose job it is to dip litmus papers in the urine, run them through some sort of machine, and then dispose of the remaining urine in a small covered pail that looks like an ice bucket. It's the little things in life.

Apple pie for our first Japanese 4th of July celebrations