OK, so that title is a little dramatic, but ya know....stuff happened. Also, unlike a certain, infinitely more famous blogger, I'm a big fan of alliteration. I'm gonna merge Friday into the weekend this time around, because, well, I was too busy to write stuff at the time.
So, Friday. A pretty simple day of classes, which, for some reason, I can't seem to recall very well. Maybe that's because the lessons themselves were very simple, or...not so memorable...or...maybe nothing happened. Honestly, I can't remember anything! Weeeeird. But what I do know is that the teachers had to go and visit all the students' houses starting Friday, and that is usually a very difficult task for them. Odd Sensei seems particularly troubled by the whole ordeal because she's got a lot going on in her life these days. I won't get into her private life, but it's taking a toll on her. I worry about the lady. I really do. Plus, she's a home room teacher this yr, which means that on top of normal lesson planning duties, she is responsible for the basic upbringing of about thirty 15-year-olds. Parent meetings, morning class meetings, after-school meetings. The poor woman. I may have called her a damsel-in-distress in e past, but that's only for the sake of this blog. She's just a nice person, and I hope everything works out well for her.
The rest of the weekend was dominated by two things: tires for my car, and planning a flower party.
As for the tires, let's rewind a bit. So my tires were getting old. I knew it, and so did everyone else. I was hoping they'd hold out for a while longer, because I remember buying tires for my Durango back in the US, and that put a huuuuuuuuge dent in my credit card limit, which took me a very long time to pay off. Oversized tires are simply evil. But, things never work out quite like I plan when it comes to money and maintenance. Case in point, two days before I got my iPad, I woke up to a flat tire. That's OK, though. I know how to change a tire, or at least how to find the information on changing a tire. I did this, with my bare hands (Japanese people always put on white gloves...pansies) and felt all sorts of manly after it was done. Even my girlfriend...who we will call...Rose, was very impressed. I took my car to the shop, expecting to get it patched and be on my way home. But see, that was my mistake. Had I been thinking properly, I would've known that it couldn't be so simple. And once I got to the tire shop, all the telltale signs of impending difficulties began to show. The mechanics tilting there heads ever so slightly when they talk to you. The slow hiss before answering any questions. And a slight arching of their backs, and a pinching of their faces from the start. That's when you know...something isn't right.
"Well...it looks like the hole in your tire is in a kind of...sensitive area...."
They'll never tell you outright that they can't do something. No, they'll go discuss it with their co-workers for a while to make it look like they're trying, and then come back and say something like, "Yeah...a very sensitive area..." and then look at you, hoping you catch their drift and go home. But this time, maybe they thought I was in a bind. Maybe they knew I was tired. Or maybe they just thought it best not to mess with me, but the boss came in and said, "Ya know what? We'll try our best!". That's probably because the boss is the father of one of my students from long ago...but whatever. They tried, and they succeeded! Turns out a giant screw was lodged in my tire. They wanted to show it to me, but they dropped it somewhere in my car and now...well, it's still somewhere in my car. Nonetheless, they looked proud of their accomplishment. But, they gave me a warning.
"This patch might come loose while you're driving, so if you get another flat, you really gotta get some new tires, OK?"
I agreed to do just that. Until now, nothing has gone wrong. But that doesn't mean my tires weren't feeling all sorts of weird. Slipping and stuff. They even felt kind of...uneven. And when I noticed that I'd bought an iPad but still hadn't fixed my tires, I knew something was wrong. So, I asked around for some help. Why didn't I just do it myself, you ask? There's a funny thing about moving to another country. Your "maturity" drops to zero, because you simply do not know how to do things in that particular country. So, even though I've been through all sorts of crap with my car in America, and learned lots of lessons about car parts, brand names, what parts don't work with what, and what goes where, in Japan, I know nothing. Really. Nothing. Not even who to go to for decent tires. Actually, Rose's father knows quite a bit about cars as he owns his own used car shop, and in true girlfriendly fashion, she offered to ask her dad if he could find a discount or something...but I didn't wanna bother the guy like that. I'm sure it has something to do with being a man, or just...him being my girlfriend's dad, but no. No. Couldn't do it.
But Rose found a shop for me, and I have no problem with that.
So, on Saturday, we drove through the rain on my balding tires, and made it safely to the tire shop. And, as always, the staff looked confused, and...a bit too pleased to see me come in. Rose and I walked in and saw all the tires and rims lined up on the wall, and I tried my best to explain people's obsession with shiny rims on their cars. Rose isn't the type to care much about material things, so she didn't quite get it, and probably just chalked it up to manliness. Which isn't so far off.
A few minutes later, one of the guys was finally available to help us out, and called us over to his desk. In his hands he held all sorts of brochures on tires, and even notes on the make and model of my car, and what kinds of tires worked for it. Then, he tilted his head just a bit and said,
"OK, sir...looks like you've gotten a lot of miles out of those tires, huh? So, let's try and get you some new ones, alright?"
I noticed that his back was arched just a bit, in a slight bow..leven though he was sitting...
"I see that you have a Honda Accord wagon, and, well...this actually happens a lot, but..."
I knew it. I was about to hear a phrase that I've heard far too many times in Japan and in the US.
"You seem to need a special size that we don't have here..."
That's right. Even my tires...from this country...are too big...for this country. And if you didn't know, special size always, always means more expensive. Fortunately, I am used to this, and wasn't so shocked. Rose, however, wasn't cool with that. Now...you gotta know, Rose isn't tall. She is very thin. Most people think she's a cute little Japanese girl who loves Hello Kitty and makeup. But she's got some power in her that you won't recognize until it's already plowed you over. And this man...well, he was about to get decked.
Rose asked if there were any other tires that would KINDA fit my car. The man showed us, but warned us that it would basically make my car illegal in Japan. But, Rose wasn't listening. Then, she compared the cheapest "kinda" perfect tires, to the cheapest perfect ones and noticed that the kinda perfect tires were about 20 bucks cheaper per tire. She then proceeded to talk this man into giving me the perfect tires at the price of the kinda perfect ones...and succeeded. See...In Japan, any price is negotiable. Thing is, you gotta know how to do it. You can't be too weak, and you can't be a jerk. You gotta know the ins and outs of Japanese honorifics, and this girl, having studied all sorts of literature and passed all sorts of kanji tests, is a master. Rose can catch salesmen off guard with her polite nature, and then suddenly ask them to lower the price, and they just kinda stumble over themselves. I was smiling at her the whole time.
Defeated, the man then began to show us the cost of services...you know, actually putting the tires on. There were three levels of service, and I just wanted the simplest one. None of that crap with the special air in the tires, or the alignment package or anything like that. Just put the tires on, and let me drive away, 90 bucks poorer. The salesman was cool with that...but then Rose hopped in. Within seconds, she had convinced this man to include the service IN THE PRICE FOR THE ALREADY DISCOUNTED TIRES. My jaw was almost on the floor at that point. She was about to get the man to give me the higher service package for the same price, but I felt bad for the guy, and stopped her.
And that's how Rose saved me 170 bucks! I get the tires on Tuesday!
Afterward, I was teasing her about how scary she was, and she pretended to be offended, but I know...she was proud of herself. And she should be! Admittedly, I fear the day she decides to use that power on me, but...for now, I'm just gonna sit back and smile to myself as I replay those 30 minutes in my mind, over and over again.
And now, the flower party. Now, I'm sure most of you read that, and thought, "Flower party? Seriously?". So, lemme explain this piece of Japanese culture to you. Japan loves seasons. The changing of the seasons is a very important part of their culture, so much that clothes and colors are often decided not by the weather, but by the season. It could be a blazing hot Septermber 30th, but people will be bundled up for the fall chill. ...Because it's fall. Duh.
One of biggest seasonal signs is the cherry blossoms (sakura) of spring.
They represent purity, beginnings, and female...ness. And when they are in full bloom, old Japanese dudes love to go out, sit under them and get blind, stinkin' drunk. Those go together, right? Right. These drinking parties, or simply picnics, are called Hanami. Basically, flower-viewing parties, which I just shorten to flower parties.
My Sunday English class has had a flower party every year for the past four years, even after the earthquake. They are quite relaxing, and a good chance to get to know everyone better. But, of course, they are entirely my responsibility, so it adds a little bit of stress. Juuuust a little. The hardest part, though, is timing it, because it's not like the cherry blossoms bloom on an exact schedule. Plan too early and you're gonna be sitting under a bare tree. Too late, and it's just gonna be a green tree. With one or two people, it isn't so much of a problem. You just up and go. But, I was working with about 15 people, trying to find a day when everyone was free, and one when it wasn't raining (how do you plan for that?!). But in the end, it all worked out. Matt, a person I haven't mentioned in a long while, wanted to come, but stomach issues prevented that. And Rose was busy. But other than that, all was good and fine.
All food was provided by the cafe, and students brought some extra stuff.
Good Weekend!
J
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