POLESTAR
March 2016 Volume 13 Issue 11
Photo by Kelsey Woodford
My father is a geranium, I know, I’m never believed! But to be frank, I’m more concerned, With how I was conceived! - Chris Santos
Photo by Zhabina Anna
From the Pres Heya, Hokkaido Ferfie Brownoff President | HAJET
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leased to informally meet all of you. My name’s Ferf and I’m the president for the HAJET prefectural council this year. I want to first say how stoked I am to be working with the group of folks that we have on board this year. Seriously, I’m really grateful to have been given this opportunity. As I’m sure enough of you are aware by now, I was really stoked on HAJET pretty much as soon as I met everyone involved. To be honest, not much has changed in the 6 or 7 months since then. I know that I haven’t been here as long as many of you. Given the sheer size of Hokkaido, I still haven’t met many of you either. In any event, no matter how well you know me or I know you at this point, I feel like there is something special that all of us are privy to in Hokkaido. Even for someone as new as me, that statement feels uncomfortably cliché. It seems like everyone and their cat have said something along the lines of: “Hokkaido is Japan’s best kept secret.” Honestly, though, I think about this almost everyday. Whether you live in the inaka, or in the city, we are all given a pretty unique opportunity here in Hokkaido. I fundamentally believe that our experience is going to be very different from those JETs in other prefectures. Personally, I think that has a lot to do with just how big Hokkaido is. In my short time here, I’ve been down to Hakodate, out east to Nemuro, and there is still so much
more that I want to explore. What I’ve seen through my limited travels is a beautiful and vast landscape, filled with an equally rich culture. I’m not going to pretend that everything about living here as a foreigner is like that “Pure Imagination” bit from Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory (1971). Regardless, there is something really special about Hokkaido ready for each one of us. My wish for each and every one of you is that you make this experience count to the best of your abilities. Do your damnedest to take advantage of the things that you can’t do back home: whether that’s exploring the mountains or forests that time forgot, taking part in as many local festivals as possible, or even buying stuff on Amazon Japan that’s cheap as hell compared to back home. The bottom line is to make sure you don’t let this opportunity go to waste. It doesn’t matter if you’re in Sapporo or Otoineppu, we have a wicked chance to make our stay here as fruitful as possible - for ourselves and for those around us. So, I’d like to continue the damn fine work that the previous PC has done in ensuring that we all have the ability to make that happen. I’m really stoked that I’ll be able to take on this challenge with the rest of you.
Dear Hokkaido ALTs, Whether as a reprieve between classes, a quick shot of the mother tongue, or just an excuse to ignore the crashing implosion of your home country’s body politic, we’re glad you’ve clicked open this edition of Polestar. We hope you like what you see and consider helping us to make it better. Anyone can submit work to Polestar. Facebook message or email us at editor@hajet.org with any ideas, questions, or concerns. Thanks to the writers and photographers who made this issue memorable! Isabelle Legault, Designer and Jack Powers, Editor
Thoughts from the
First Year Rep. Jon Curry First Year Representative | HAJET
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s much as I hate to admit this, the bulk of my experience as an ALT thus far has been fairly sedentary. Even on my busiest weeks, I spend less than 20 hours in the classroom - and I’m sure my experience is not a unique one. I’ve tried to preoccupy myself as productively as I can during those dull hours. So far I’ve taught myself how to edit on Photoshop, learned a bit of Japanese, and kept myself in the loop of political goings-on back home. Occasionally, I’ll get the chance to chat with other yakuba folks whose desks neighbor mine. This usually provides some level of entertainment
value, as these chats either involve people freaking out over my afro or asking me to help them (lovingly) berate each other in English. But by the end of the day, even if I engage in fun classes and office shenanigans, I’ve started to ask myself: is this really worth it? Which leads to further concerns: can I really stomach this for another year? Is it my fault that my experience is lacking? Is it too soon for me to be asking these questions? Before I go any further, I want to give a brief disclaimer: I won’t have concrete answers by the end of this article. In fact, I probably won’t have them until the end of a full year as a JET, if at all. As such, I kind of want to use this
piece as a chance to think things out loud, and to invite you lovely readers to use this a space to do the same. First, let’s tackle the issue of whether my dissatisfaction with working life is my fault. For starters, I chose to dedicate this year to observing and adapting after meeting the various JTEs in my town. Initially, some of my JTEs asked me how we ought to run each class. As this is my first year teaching, I decided to fully embrace the “Assistant” side of the ALT dynamic. I realize that I effectively trapped myself into the human-tape recorder role. In that sense, some of my dissatisfaction certainly stems from that decision. But I think playing this role has allowed me to assess how to develop a teaching style come next school year, having seen most of the course materials and how each teacher likes to present them. On top of that, I’m treated more like a one-shot ALT, yet another dynamic which has led to some interesting developments. Coupled with the backseat, tape recorder role, being a one-shot makes actual teaching of the curriculum pretty difficult, as my visits aren’t frequent enough for me to keep up with and teach using course materials. On the same token, the students don’t view me strictly as a teacher, which has allowed me to build a good rapport with them through English-related games and general silliness during class. So how should I apply this knowledge moving forward? For the school I visit most frequently (my middle school), I can better gauge how much of an impact I can have in the coming years. Most of the students with whom I’ve developed good relationships will be starting middle school next year or continuing it, so I’ll have a better foundation to work with than when I arrived last fall. Moreover, even if my impact in the classroom remains as is, I can use the rapport I’ve built to garner interest in opening an afterschool eikaiwa. Hopefully I can use that space to break the rigid classroom mold and show my students how learning a foreign language can be fulfilling beyond scoring well on an exam. Of course, this is all speculation; maybe I won’t be able to convince the kids that hey, English is fun and learning is magic! Maybe next year will be
a continuation of my observation period. Maybe that’s all the one-shot experience turns out to be - observing, adapting, wishing for better opportunities to actually teach. Or, maybe I’m just viewing things too bleakly too soon. Regardless, my temporary short answers to the JET existential crisis are yes, this is worth it (for now), and yes, I can survive for (at least) another year. If anything, the prospect of being able to save up for travel and college loan payments alone is enough to answer those questions for the time being. Ideally, though, the experience of being a JET itself will hold more weight than my dreams of Scrooge McDuck-style diving into an ocean of 500 yen coins. Sorry for the lack of sunshine and rainbows with this one, y’all. I should add that while I do genuinely ask myself the above questions, I also feel unrivaled satisfaction with my life and career path after a good class with the kids. Here, have one of my favorite throwback pictures of Halloween activities at one of my elementary schools that definitely did not come from the textbook (credit to Michael Lohr for the idea). Thanks for reading, and have an awesome rest of your day!
2017
Turn and face the
STRANGE Michael Lohr Member | HAJET
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hange can be like a bucket of water to the face. Depending on the conditions and the temperature of the water, it can be pleasant or quite jarring. A lot of us have come to Japan with a big dream to change the education system and be this huge influence on society. Don’t get me wrong, this is a great ideal to have, but I am sorry to say that this likely won’t happen. There is still change to bring about, though. You have a profound effect on those around you on global issues. You yourself have probably changed more than you realize since you have come to Japan. Your hair, body figure, and style are influenced by those around you. Your mannerisms and global awareness have probably also changed. In turn, you have the same effect on others. A good Japanese friend regularly tells me that her life has never been the same since we met. She has become fluent in English, and plans to live abroad soon. Just the other day I helped change some people in my town`s perspective on Islam and terrorism.. Like many Japanese, they were Islamophobic and under the impression that being Muslim equaled being a terrorist—an idea similar to thinking that all Japanese people are yakuza. We are all built for change, but many of us don’t respond to it well. Some stand tall in defiance to it. While I applaud their tenacity, I started to wonder why we fight and fear change so much. Change is inevitable, so why are we so fearful? Let me present two personal examples of change from my family that could be a source of fear. First, in the past year my father has been diagnosed with an incurable
terminal illness. Second, my sister is expecting her first child, a baby girl, this July. Both cases are huge points of change for my family. One of great sorrow, the other of great happiness. I am terrified at the thought of losing my father at such a young age, my whole family is. But his illness is not in our control, and we can only take each day as it comes. My sister and brother-in-law are rightfully nervous and excited about becoming parents. They are unsure about what is to come, where they will live, what they should do. There a lot of unknown pieces that they are trying to parse out. So why share this? We are uncomfortable with the unknown and uncontrollable. Change is often both to some degree. The two examples above are probably enough to make many people want to run away and hide. But what is the point in fleeing? There is nothing you can do about the unknown and uncontrollable other than to wait for it to come. Perhaps in reality it is waiting for the change to happen that we dislike? If it is the waiting that we dislike so much, then we need to take ourselves away from waiting. In the waiting, we tend to dwell on the potential change and enter a vicious cycle of worry and stress. The change is coming, so why force ourselves through the approach in melancholic anxiety? Instead, indulge yourself in your hobbies! Read! Write! Listen to David Bowie’s “Changes”! Let the change come. Do not dwell on what is unknown and out of your control. You have already lived through a lifetime of change, most of which has gone unnoticed. Because it simply happened. Let the change happen, fill your time with memories and experiences. Change will always be on the horizon, but that doesn’t mean you need to shut yourself from it.
CH E S
A N G
HEC Legend: Wanaka Yokoo
Introduction Jeremy Blanco Coordinator | HEC Being a native of Kutchan, Hokkaido, Wanaka has taken on the toughest slopes. However, it’s not just her love for challenges that makes her special--it’s her character, and being a passionate learner of international cultures and languages, something that’s nurtured by her family.
In junior high school, she attended the Hokkaido English Challenge Summer Camp and loved it. She went on to make another trip to HEC during senior high school. She was so driven she volunteered in 2014! Wanaka is currently studying at Salt Lake Community College in Utah, U.S.A. She shares this with you below…
Wanaka Yokoo Former Member | HEC
calm down, and stop tears running my face. Finally, I was ready for America, for new chapter of my life.
ll at once, tears started running down my face. I was crying in front of boarding gate for flight to America like a little girl who have lost and looking for mother. I was nervous, and I felt my heart being super heavy like someone is squeezing my heart. I was scared and my hands were shaking. I was so sad to leave my friends, and all of my family in Japan.
This was happened a year and a half ago, and I still cry, but now, I only cry when I have an anthropology exam, politics exam, and two of five pages length paper turnin on the same day. Yes, I still cry, but definitely, a year and half of college life in America made me stronger.
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I called one of my JET friends for help. He told me calmly and kindly, “Wanaka, it is okay to be scared and nervous, because you are leaving for country you’ve never been”. Thanks to this word, somehow I could make myself
First, the effort made me stronger. When I arrived to America, I could speak English without difficulty, so I didn't have a hard time in daily life. However, I had a difficult time in some classes like politics and anthropology. I knew most of the terminology appears on the textbook, if it’s in Japanese, but of course, all the
textbooks are in English, so I couldn't understand at all, and I had to start learning from beginning. Obviously it took a time, and I was so frustrated when someone next to me takes A’s straightly, even she or he is always texting during class, and not listening to professors. However, I realized that I can pass the class with A’s if I study hard enough. Even the professor at Stanford University, Carol Dweck states that the ability to learn is not fixed, but it can change with your effort. Since then, I stopped complaining about how much I’m damn and how other classmates doing, but I started focusing that I can do it, if I study hard enough. Effort made everything possible. Secondly, being myself made me stronger. After I came to America, I got a best friend for the first time ever in my life. My best friend is crazy and stupid. She almost killed me couple times when she drives while I’m sitting in the passenger seat next to her. She doesn't shave, so her armpit hair is long. I teach her word, “futsukayoi” (hang over in Japanese), but she’s never learned, because she always asks me how to say it when she is futsukayoi. However, at the same time, she is awesome. She speaks six languages, and we teach each other all the languages. She is super out going and I’ve never seen her hesitated to talk to people even the person talking to is someone she’s never met. Last but not least, she always accept me as who I am. We talk a lot about culture, politics, and religion. Since, we have different background, of course, sometime we have different opinions, but she’s never hated me. Instead, she listens to me more carefully, and we share the ideas to come up with better ideas. She accepts and loves me as who I am, and I love her as who she is, no matter what happened. We laugh together until our stomachs hurt, we cry together when we see the terrible tragedy happen to our world, and we grow armpit hair together, because we think it is unfair that women are looked less beautiful or less attractive because of armpit hair which is very natural to have. Thanks to her, I’m no longer scared of people. I stay as who I am. Of course, some people see me as crazy or stupid, but I don’t care, because I’m pretty sure that there is also someone who likes me as who I am. Once I realized this, my life got super easier and happier. Only real friends were remained, and interestingly, I got
more friends that I’m thankful to have. I also realized that the armpit hair is a very good repellent for a bad man. Now, I only stay with good man who accepts me as who I am, understand the gender equality of beauty, and how shaving company started advertisements to let women to shave their natural armpit hair to make a massive profit in1920s. I don't necessarily say that you should grow your armpit hair too, but if you are looking for a guy with good understanding of gender equality, certainly it is one of the best ways. Lastly, I became much stronger by learning the importance of living my life. I quit competing in mogul skiing after I came to America. I was competing for last 9 years and I was tired of it, because that wasn't something I want to do for my life. That was something my father wants me to do. After I quit competing in mogul skiing, you might think that I am exaggerated, but my life has changed entirely, and I could start living my life. I started doing whatever I want and makes me happy. Why there are quotes everywhere, something like “Live as if you were to die tomorrow”? Because, a lot of people die with regrets. If all the people are having life without regrets, there shouldn't be quotes like this. Everyone know that it is better to live doing what they want, but in the reality, most people don't move into action because of fear, what people think or money, so I want you to ask yourself, “am I doing something I want?” If your answer is no, you need to change, and if you can’t change it right now, I’m pretty sure that you won’t be able to change it even in the future. You are going to die without doing what you want. As for me, of course, I don't want to die with regrets, so I am moving into action. This year, I’m going to desert for camping. After the college graduation, I will go to South America to travel around and learn Spanish. I will teach skiing for children because that is one of my most favorite things to on the earth. Finally, I am doing what I want, and I’m happier than ever before. These are the things I learned through my life in America. I am and will always make my best effort to let my dream come true whatever the dream is. I always be who I am whoever I stay with. I always do whatever I want wherever I go, because it’s my life, and it’s now or never.
Explaning the kotatsu
Betrice Yambrach Central Representative | HAJET
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y constant struggle is trying to explain the kotatsu to friends and family back home. It’s somewhat easy to describe, but trying to imagine the kotatsu without actually seeing it for yourself is a little difficult and the concept a bit confusing. Used almost exclusively in Japan, its star-like image, the edges of a fluffy, colorful futon flowing out from underneath the tabletop, intersecting the edges of the just as colorful and fluffy carpet, is almost iconic. The kotatsu is an invention some might call remarkable, others useless Whether you love or hate the kotatsu, the question that we’re left with is ‘why?’ Why is Japan one of the few countries to invent such a device? Why is the kotatsu so significant in Japanese culture? Is the kotatsu really that brilliant? If only your lower body is kept warm and toasty while your upper body is left to the forces of nature, what gives? Yet, despite these arguments, the kotatsu is probably one of the most valuable inventions in Japan, perfected over hundreds of years.
The kotatsu design originated in Japan during the Muromachi period (1336-1573). Originally, there was a charcoal-powered cooking hearth in every household, called an irori. But by the 14th Century, the irori was adapted from its cooking function into a heating/sitting function when a frame was placed around it and a blanket added on top to trap the heat. Thus creating the kotatsu’s early ancestor, the hori-gotatsu. The word hori-gotatsu (掘り炬燵) is derived from the kanji 掘り (hori) meaning ditch, digging, 炬 (ko) meaning torch or
fire, and (tatsu) meaning foot warmer. The hori-gotatsu was continuously altered and by the 17th century, during the Edo period, the moveable kotatsu was created with the use of tatami flooring. Instead of placing charcoals in the irori, they were now placed in an earthen pot, which was then situated on top of the tatami. Thus, the transportable kotatsu, or oki-gotatsu, was made. The word oki-gotatsu (置き 炬燵) has the same kanji as hori-gotatsu, with the exception of the first character, 置き (oki), meaning placement. Around the middle of the 20th Century, charcoal was replaced with electricity and instead of having a moveable earthen pot, a heater was fixed to the underside of the kotatsu frame. And so came about the modern kotatsu. Historically, the kotatsu was an important heat source for the household during winter. But, does it still hold that same significance with modern technology? Few houses in Japan are well insulated and even fewer actually have
central heating. Though you may enjoy huddling around your kerosene stoves, using multiple space heaters, or maybe cuddling under an electric blanket to keep warm, kotatsus offer an easy alternative. Heavily layered and stitched for insulation purposes, the kotatsu futon is specially made to trap and localize the warm air underneath it. Additionally, they’re cheaper to use. Kotatsu help save on kerosene and gas and use less electricity than your average space heater. But it still begs the question, if it only keeps the lower half of your body warm, what’s the point if your upper body is freezing? Think fashion. The kotatsu was invented at a time when kimonos were commonly worn. Heat could easily go through the bottom of the kimono and travel throughout the body. More traditionally, the Japanese believe that your entire abdominal area is your body’s Command Central, where your moods, vitality, and spirituality reside. This idea is still maintained in Japan today. If your abdomen is warm, it will spread the heat throughout the
rest of your body, keeping you warm all around. The kotatsu is not only a warm and cozy place to sit, but it’s also conveniently located in the central area of the home, the living room. Grabbing a snack or reaching for the TV remote is either just a reach or a few steps away. On cold days when all you want to do is lay in bed, you have the alternative option of sitting under the kotatsu. You’re still warm and covered by a blanket, but you’re at a table where you can choose to be productive or not. Yet, the kotatsu’s greatest charm comes not from its warmth or convenience, but from the bonding it cultivates between family and friends. Some of my favorite moments in Japan have come from sitting around the kotatsu with friends while cooking nabe and drinking beer. The kotatsu is winter’s communal centerpiece that you can make as social or private as you would like. That being said, the kotatsu isn’t a sign of giving in to winter and surrendering to the cold. Rather, it’s a way to embrace winter and make the most out of it.
Opening of the Hokkaido Shinkansen March 26th Jack Powers Editor | POLESTAR
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he first leg of the “Hokkaido Shinkansen” will open March 26th with service from ShinHakodate. With a bureaucratic hype machine Star Wars in scale and Lifetime home movie in style, the prefectural government has promised this to be a big deal. Images of weeping ticket-buyers on TV don’t necessarily guarantee the train’s success, just that we`ll keep hearing about it. Though, the question remains how the opening of the far-from-finished new line will affect transportation decisions to and from Hokkaido. Plans to extend the Tohoku line into Hokkaido date back to the early 70`s. Construction finally started in 2005. The Seidan Tunnel, which connects Honshu and Hokkaido, had to be altered into a dual-gauge system that supports shared bullet train and conventional line tracks. The passage through the tunnel in the Tsugaru Straights will still significantly slow the bullet train from its top speed; it will take just over an hour to cross the tunnel. The Shinkansen is projected to bolster Hokkaido’s tourism industry, an increasingly important boom sector as the island’s economy continues to stagnate overall. In 2013, over 4 million tourists traveled to Hokkaido. In a 2013 survey by the Japan Travel Bureau, 20 percent of responders chose it as the most desirable travel destination in Japan, more popular than even Kyoto. Given the attractiveness of Hokkaido as a vacation destination, the prefectural government expects the train will reel in more domestic and international travelers. The trip from Shin-Hakodate to Tokyo will take 4 hours and 2 minutes, a large reduction from the current time
of around 6 hours and 30 minutes for regular rail service. Shin-Hakodate, alas, is not Sapporo. What should be an immediate economic boon for southwest Hokkaido can seem as far as an Okinawan beach to the bulk of Hokkaido. The line is tentatively planned to reach Sapporo Station in 2030. Meanwhile, Hokkaido’s bullet train access will reach only as far as the very bottom of the island’s bushy tail. After that, travelers will be left to the less-alluring clunk of regular trains, cars, buses to access the still aptlycalled “Frontier.” A reserve seat ticket on the bullet train from ShinHakodate to Tokyo will cost ¥22,690, cheaper than most flights from Hakodate airport. But the nascent train line will face a long, upward climb in competing with New Chitose International Airport for inbound travelers and outbound Hokkaido residents. The route between Chitose and Tokyo is the busiest in the world according to FlightStats. With frequent daily direct flights on eight airlines including several low cost carriers, plane tickets from Sapporo are very reasonable for most of the year. Average flight time is 1 hour and 30 minutes. Trains from Sapporo to Shin-Hakodate currently take around 4 hours. One unambiguous upside is environmental. While still having a significant climate impact, high-speed electric trains swallow up far less fossil fuel than planes. As a global symbol of Japan, the Shinkansen also has cultural cache on its side. In the end, passengers may sign on for less-than practical reasons. Taking a shinkansen into the Japanese fatherland is a bit more romantic than flying Peach out of Chitose.
Green, Blue, What the-? The traffic light mystery Bryan Campbell Treasurer | HAJET
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was looking at some example sentences while studying Japanese at my Board of Education over the winter break. Already aware of the topic and not surprised, I found one that referred to a green traffic light as blue. I decided to run with this, and asked my co-workers what it meant and why Japanese people use blue instead of green for traffic lights. When I asked about this, hilarity ensued. Among the more entertaining answers I got were “because that’s what the law says” and “because blue (ao) only has two syllables.” Rather anti-climactically though, the answer is pretty simple. Green lights are called blue because of history. Ao was used to describe blues and greens for the entirety of Japanese history, and traffic lights are only the most recent sign of this. In truth, there really isn’t much more to say about traffic lights specifically, but it does lead into a rather interesting topic. As it turns out, the reason for this is more about linguistics and perception than anything. Some quick research shows that many cultures fail to distinguish blue and green as separate colors and thus their languages do not have separate words for them. Even classical English seems to have not distinguished the colors, with green originally considered a shade of blue. In Japan, this lack of distinction continued until World War II, which explains why the word midori (used for green now) never seems to be in widespread use (more internationalization and little time for midori to catch on.) The character that we would normally
associate with blue shows up in words like seizan (lush mountain), aoba (fresh leaves), seika (fresh produce), and aokusa (green grass). All of these examples and more show that Japan simply didn’t distinguish green as a separate color from blue, and only started to do so following World War II. So green never really existed. Case closed, huh? Well, history is a funny thing. According to a Japan Times article of the subject, the first traffic light in Japan (at Hibaya Crossing in 1930) was officially referred to as midori-iro (green color). But the long lasting perception of blue as the name for that entire spectrum of light colloquially changed this over time to blue. Further, in a 1973 decision to get the green traffic light and the colloquial use of blue more closely related, the government ruled to use the bluest hue of green possible, allowing them to call it blue while still adhering to international conventions. Like anything with culture or language, this turns into a complete rabbit hole that gets far more complicated and interesting. Australian linguistics researcher Dr. Francis Conlan wrote an over 500-page dissertation on the word blue as it is used in Japan. This points to a lot happening with the word, and the matter being quite complex and detailed. But for most, it seems like the simplest answers are the best ones. Green traffic lights in Japan are blue because that’s how it’s been for a long time. Japanese language and culture historically do not distinguish the colors, and when pressed on the matter, Japan even kind of cheated to make traffic lights blue, since that’s what everyone was calling them anyways.
“Curious” by AJ Kay