Date: December 16, 2003

Happy Holidays everyone!

The holiday season has been quite an exciting one in Japan. Much to my

surprise, though the Japanese do not celebrate Christmas officially, they like to play like they do. There are lights lining the streets, we've cooked Christmas cake and constructed gingerbread houses in school, Christmas carols come bellowing out of the department stores, and every Japanese house I've visited recently (including the home of the Buddhist priest) has had a fully decorated Christmas tree! I've been invited to 3 Christmas parties and I've taught so many lessons on Christmas that I could nearly gag myself. The JET community gathered for a fabulous “Festivus” celebration complete with 5 turkeys. And, I even heard a 4 year-old child singing "Jingle Bells" today (well, she wasn't exactly singing the words, but the tune was unmistakable). It's been a wonderful season filled with all the cheer of Christmas at home, but minus a lot of the stress and rush of years previous. Seeing as this is Japan and I didn't expect to experience the holidays at all here, everything that has happened has been as if experiencing Christmas for the first time...and though I find it slightly strange and almost pathetic (why do they feel they need to copy the west when they have countless rich and amazing traditions of their own)...their contagious Christmas spirit can be met with nothing less than wide-eyed excitement and gratitude.

A few weeks ago I took a trip to Hiroshima. It was an incredible

trip...intense yet peaceful, disturbing yet hopeful! I was able to

interview an A-bomb survivor and get an English tour of the peace park by a Japanese person. The abundance of life and color in the city made it terribly hard to believe that a bomb could have fallen such a short time ago. I couldn't stop thinking about how resilient life is. A sense of peace and hope seemed to reign in Hiroshima in a way that was almost haunting...as if it was depriving the victims of some of the authenticity of their experience...or as if it was depriving me, an American, of deserved punishment. In some ways I felt as though I deserved to go and see all the horror that resulted from the actions of my country. On the other hand, I had to consider that had it been a disgusting scene the tendency would have been to go, feel badly, apologize, and wash my hands of the horror (dismissing it as either a terrible tragedy or necessary evil). But, by presenting a place filled with hope and life, it was nearly impossible to unengage. Just as Hiroshima lives on so does the horror of its history. Amid life, we were left to seek understanding. Indeed, I was left to internalize the hope that the city breeds. I don't know - I'm not communicating it well, but suffice it to say that it was an amazing trip...and that's not even talking about the incredible food that I ate (like a Subway sub and a quesadilla), the wonderful view I was rewarded with after a beautiful hike on Miyajima, nor the hours of giggles and conversations shared with my friends that accompanied me. It was great!

Besides that, the weeks have passed in the blink of an eye, though I'm not sure I can identify with what they were filled exactly. There have been heaps of small, meaningful exchanges with newly found Japanese friends. They remain in my memory as frozen images and short sound bites...strung like Christmas lights. There was the dinner party wherein a Japanese person imitated English with what sounded like a rooster on crack...there was the sparkle of flattery in my supervisor's eyes when I invited her to tea...the concerned scurry to bring me nan, rice, and milk to cool my tongue at the priest's curry party... my breathlessness as the priest flew down the mountain roads like a bat out of hell en route to his temple...the effort taken to hide my disgust for the grizzle and cartilage served up by a friend...the pride on the faces of my students when they successfully taught me how to make marble tofu...the sight of my student's donning fake beak-like noses because "westerners look different"...my elementaries who just want to touch my hair...and my junior highs who forever ask if it's a

'permu'...etc. etc. All those memories stand along side a series of equally valued moments spent sitting back and appreciating the JET community...the warmth of the slumber party...the hilarity of the hour of power...the creativity at the charity auction...the hours of cooking before “Festivus”...and on and on.

Admittedly, some of the awe that accompanied my arrival is wearing off.

But, right when I think that I'm just plodding along with "life as usual in Japan," feeling frustrated and fatigued, and falling victim to the much feared disease of "culture shock;" that's when I read some student's crazy Engrish or experience one of the aforementioned moments, and the appreciation is renewed. I've come to hate the term culture shock. Culture shock sounds so negative...it is to infer weakness or belief in a cultural hierarchy. But, really I think it is just a process of slowing down and looking more closely...beyond the shiny veneer. It's a search for understanding and a desire to critically evaluate...and, in the end, I think the only shock is to realize how amazingly rich and complex this whole experience is.

Well, the mountains in the distance are now white with snow, which reminds me of two things: 1. It's nearly time to go home for Xmas - yay! 2. When I return in January, the city will be snow-covered as well. Oh dear! I'm scared! It's going to be soooo cold. I guess this southerner is going to have to toughen up. Wish me luck.

Take care everyone. Sending you my warmest holiday regards and looking forward to seeing some of you in the next two weeks!

Best Wishes,

Brandon

ps. I've put up more pictures on the website: www.duke.edu/~bhl/japan - check 'em out.

pss. My students just told me that Brittany Spears is called "Bootie-chan" in Japan - classic!

psss. Enjoy a little Engrish stolen from students - some are quite poetic and telling, really:

I allow boyfriend.

Do you play fire?

I like to fire.

I have disease. I want health early.

My uncle was a diseased.

Hunger is the best sauce.

Poverty is alien to her nature.

I breathe in the sea.

The country is beautiful ear.

I am to live in a problem.

The city is to many bad boy.

**********************

Brandon Little

Fukui-shi, Fukui-ken

Japan