Napa and San Francisco Bay Area Construction

Rich Alkema Construction is a residential and commercial construction company based in Napa, California, covering the San Francisco bay area.

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Come Back Already, Stef

So, yeah. Panic attacks are very, very real. And they’re very unpleasant.

It’s nice to know that you aren’t having a heart attack, though. Gives you some control over the situation.

Thank goodness for friends–especially ones who have already experienced your trials.

Craaaaazy Weight Loss

So, three months ago I weighed 232 pounds. Now I weigh 214.

18 pounds in three months.

I went to see the doctor about a persistent cough (4+ weeks), and chest x-rays showed no problems. Afterward, the doctor alternated between the words “sutoresu” and “arerugi” (stress and allergy), repeating them in a slow, booming voice seemingly meant for someone with severe brain damage and/or hearing loss.

She didn’t offer any other words until I showed clear discomfort with the way she was speaking to me. I had already established in many previous visits (as well as the current one) that I speak and understand Japanese. I think I’m done with that hospital.

The Seaweed is Always Greener

Trying to have a positive outlook about Stef and the girls staying in America three weeks after I would return, I constantly talked about all the things I'd be able to accomplish with so much free time. I'd finally have time to study Japanese as much as I want. I'd actually get to play some video games, compose some music, hang out with Japanese friends and improve my slang, and probably lose some weight in the absence of Stef's wonderful cooking.

Five days into my solitary life in Japan, it's nowhere near as wonderful as I'd hoped. There's so much time, but so little to do. If I were a junior high school student, my Saturday of nothing-but-PlayStation and not even leaving the house would be a dream. Having tasted the sweet companionship of marriage and fatherhood, my free time feels more like detention.

Surely, I'm losing weight. I can't be bothered to cook or eat--it's just too much of a hassle when everything you eat tastes like cardboard. My already waning appetite withers to the point that I'm forcing myself to swallow an overripe banana for lunch at 2:45 PM, just so I don't go into a starvation-induced coma. I don't even dare attempt to compose music on my computer, given my minimal brain function. When I tried to make a full dinner of salad, spaghetti, and garlic bread, I had to settle for the latter two upon finding the greens I had bought just two days earlier covered in mold.

Oh, but there are no dirty dishes to act as the bane of your existence, you might say. Okay, so you might have a point there. But I'd much rather have a never-ending sink of filthy dishes from meals with my family.

What about all that talk about hanging out with Japanese friends? Hasn't happened yet--and I suppose that it might help if I actually had friends who were Japanese. I've still got two weeks to make something happen. Perhaps I'll play basketball on Thursday (it's currently Tuesday night and as I type, my friends are actually playing basketball). Thursdays are always easier than Tuesdays, since the Tuesday practices take place at Sakurai junior high school, a 30-minute bike ride. The 10-minute cruise from Minami junior high on Thursdays is much easier after three-man-weaving and crab-walking my life force into oblivion.

Perhaps one of the biggest causes of my current malaise is the fact that I just returned from America, where I can read everything, understand everything, and buy just about anything. I still have a valid drivers license in California, and being able to drive anywhere whenever I wanted was much more convenient than bicycle-only Japan.

I had a blast in California with Ryan, Stef, and all the Alkemas and Stouts. Ryan, Stef, Rich, Brittney and Bryce, Ashley, Andy, Sa and Zack, Matt and Anna, and Nate all accompanied me to an Oakland A's game. We sat in the third deck directly behind home plate, which despite being so far from the players actually provided a rather satisfying view of the game. Included in each ticket was 6 dollars' worth of food vouchers for the third-deck concession stand, which was essentially enough for a hot dog and half of a drink. I stuffed myself with a pulled pork sandwich, a drink, and an enormous paper tray of nachos, smothered with that deliciously nasty, artery-clogging processed nacho cheese.

The game itself was ultimately little more than a tease, given that the A's would give up a run or two in the top-half of an inning, then tie it up in the bottom-half, only to fall to the Angels in ten innings, never having led the game. The next game--which was the game I most wanted to attend--the A's won 15-2.

Regardless of the outcome of our game, we had a lot of fun. Few things in life are more enjoyable to me than acting like a fool at a sporting event with all my friends and family. Stef will attest to this.

I love America. I love grass. I love sprinklers. I love front yards, back yards, driveways, garages, couches, and carpet. Ah, carpet. Stef and I joked about making carpet and grass angels. Such a love for plush carpet and grass may seem strange, but try living in a country with next to no grass (sports are often played on dirt and astroturf in Japan) and tatami flooring, and you'll soon see what you're missing. Mia fell face-first off the couch in Napa, and she bounced off the carpet and walked away without shedding a single tear. No such thing would ever happen on tatami.

I love being able to go the grocery store and find so many dozens of aisles full of things that don't taste like fish. Hey--I love fish; sushi is wonderful. But I sometimes wonder how necessary it is to make all of your non-fish food taste like fish. Some of that stuff--seaweed (nori), in particular--has grown on me. Heck, Kelsey absolutely devours the stuff, along with pickled ginger and salmon roe. But the food in America is glorious. Pizza--scratch that--good pizza. Mexican food. In-N-Out. Snacks that don't taste like fish. There's so much food to love.

Mia seems to be thriving in America. She's so much more trusting, more bubbly, less needy. It's exciting to think about when the kids will both have more English-speaking friends to play with. Kelsey's doing pretty well too, but she's got a bit of adjusting to do. She's not used to having kids to play with--especially not kids who speak the same language. There are a lot of things to look forward to when we eventually return.

Don't get me wrong--there are still a lot of things that I love about Japan. It's just a lot harder to appreciate them when you're living alone. Once Stef and the girls are back out here, I'll get back into a routine, and I'll be just as content as ever. We've got just one more year here, after which we will gladly move back to America to continue the next chapter of life.

Before going back to the States to visit, I really had no desire to do so. While I love seeing family, I just wanted to do my time in Japan and return when it was all over. I've felt a lot of anxiety about finding a job after Japan, and have generally feared going back to such economic uncertainty.

My visit laid most of those fears to rest. I'm sure I'll still stress about finding a job, but I am much less afraid of going back. There's just so much to love. I'm sure we'll miss a lot about Japan when we eventually leave--the food, the people, the language (okay, so that one's just me), etc.--but I know we'll find ways to occasionally fulfill those needs. I'm sure we can find seaweed in America.

Hope and a Side of Fries

I went to a burger shop today which had a window ad for a new burger "loaded with your hopes and dreams." With a serious expression, I pointed to the overhead menu and asked the girl at the register if the burgers truly contained my dreams and hopes. The register girl froze, unable to muster an answer, and the fortyish year-old lady managing the store behind her nervously cocked her head to the side and confirmed that my dreams and hopes were, indeed, included with the purchase of said hamburger.

I flashed a smile and both women laughed uncomfortably. After finishing my burger, I told the girl on my way out the door that my hopes and dreams were much tastier than I ever could have imagined. “Hai” was her only response.

In other weird Japan news, a group of seventh grade girls pulled me aside after class today to tell me how nice I smell.

Why Eigo Noto Sucks: or Why ALTs Feel Worthless

So, I’m consigned to the fact that my students aren’t going to learn English. I’m lucky if I see them more than once a month, which wouldn’t be a problem if they were getting adequate instruction on days I’m not there. I’m starting to question the effectiveness of teaching once a month to elementary school kids (ha!).
 
Like I said in my previous post today, Eigo Noto could be a very helpful resource for schools, since most of them aren’t going to be able to have a full-time ALT. Unfortunately, the lessons are so inefficiently organized that it’s almost a waste of time and resources. On top of that, a slew of questionable production decisions make it so that what they do learn is often tainted.
 
There are no grammar explanations*, and the teachers certainly don’t understand the grammar. But then they’re expected to perform with correct grammar in front of the whole class. For example, in the ninth and final section of the fifth grade book, the kids learn a couple phrases that are important to know at restaurants: “What would you like?” and “I’d like ~”. The problem is that there were already three to four weeks of lessons for the same material earlier in the year, except we taught them that waiter will ask, “What do you want?”, to which you respond, “I want ~”. Which, of course, they have long-since forgotten (not a huge loss, since you usually wouldn’t say those specific words at a restaurant—think “I’ll have ~” or “I’d like ~”). So, we have two lessons in the same text book that take up four weeks each, devoted to the same exact thing, just with slightly different wording.
 
*In the interest of full disclosure, I originally typed “There’s no grammar explanations”, which both I and Microsoft Word’s grammar checker know to be grammatically incorrect. I hung my head in shame before going back to my angry rant about bad grammar.
 
Since we also focused a few lessons on "What do you like?", the kids generally just revert back to that, since there's no contrast of current and previous vocab or grammar points.

There’s no sound in Japanese that matches the wo of would**, so Japanese people say, “oohdoh,” instead. The homeroom teachers have spoken English incorrectly their whole lives, so they don’t know that there’s anything to correct. The kids also don’t know that the ‘d in I’d is a shortened version of would, so instead, they’re forced to just parrot the two phrases. To make matters worse, most ALTs can’t speak Japanese well enough to give a detailed explanation of a grammar principle, so it never gets taught.

*It’s the same with woman, which is generally pronounced ooh-mahn in Japan, which could be a cool man-horse hybrid (horse = uma in Japanese)



I take time out of the lesson to correct overall pronunciation, and to draw diagrams that help people understand how to produce sounds correctly or remember a grammar concept. If necessary, I’ll give an explanation in Japanese. I’d like to think that it helps, since they always seem to come around—but I’m sure they forget it the moment I walk out the door. After all, they won’t see me for another month.
 
Like I said, the teachers were often taught incorrectly, so the ignorance spreads like wildfire. Here’s an actual exchange in which my friend Crescenda took part:
 
Crescenda: How do you say 猫(cat) in English?
Student: uh…kyaht-tah?
Homeroom teacher: No, it’s kyaht-to!
[Crescenda commits hara-kiri]
 
The other day, one of the teachers reprimanded a student for referring to the fictional teacher in the lesson as Yamamoto-sensei. Sensei in English is teacher, so of course, we say Yamamoto-teacher in English, right? WRONG. I’m okay with them calling me Jesshe-sensei (they can’t say see—it comes out like she). I am not okay with them calling me Jesse-teacher. That’s just ridiculous.
 
Some teachers understand that we don’t call teachers teacher—that we use Mr. Yamamoto instead of Yamamoto-teacher. But then they extend the Mr. to all males, as an extension of the –san honorific suffix. I’m Mr. Jesse, Babe Ruth becomes Mr. Babe Ruth, Michael Jackson becomes Mr(s). Michael Jackson, some kid name Junpei in class becomes Mr. Junpei, Daniel-san from The Karate Kid becomes Mr. Daniel, Mister Rogers becomes Mr. Mister Rogers, and so on.
 
Like I said, there are no grammar explanations in Eigo Noto. Indefinite articles (a in a car and an in an apple) and definite articles (the car, this cat, that skid mark, etc) are very hard for Japanese learners of English. There’s basically no equivalent in Japanese. There’s also usually no plural marker***, like s in cats. So, when a Japanese kid says, “I like dog”, it makes perfect sense to him, but elicits a giggle from the ALT, who is usually sure that the kid doesn’t actually eat dog.

***Sure, there’s –tachi and –ra, but they’re not always used and definitely not as essential.
 
On top of all of that, the words that the kids are “learning” are words that are already used in Japan and have been katakana-ized into the Japanese language. For example, these are common, everyday words in Japan:
 
• Hamburger = Hahmbahgah
• Hot dog = Hotto doggu
• Salad = Sarada
• Orange juice = Orenji juusu
• Fried Chicken = Furai chikin
 
In other words, the kids spent eight weeks of the year “studying” words that they already knew.
 
Anyway, here’s our restaurant demonstration for the kids:
 
Me: Hello.
Homeroom Teacher: Hello. Watt oodoh you rike?
Me: I’d like a hamburger, a hot dog, and salad.
HRT: OK. Hahmbahgah, hotto doggu, ando sarada. He-yah you ah.
Me: Thank you.
HRT: You-ah weh-ru-kahm.
 
Power to these HRTs, who are being forced to teach a language they secretly (or not so secretly) hate. They keep on keepin’ on, even though the Ministry of Education is out to get them. They get their pay cut while every school employs an ALT and buys $10,000 touch screen TVs for their English class, yet they keep on teachin'.
 
My goal is not so much to make fun of the HRT’s pronunciation as much as to point out that it’s important that they get an actual native speaker in the room that can help coach the kids on pronunciation. The kids are usually really quick to pick up proper pronunciation, while the adults are so set in their incorrect ways that they’ll likely never change (though they could if they wanted to).
 
So, it follows that any recordings of spoken English that are going to be used to teach kids correct pronunciation should be spoken by native speakers, right? This is where Eigo Noto really drops the ball.



It's obvious that whoever's announcing the food is not a native English speaker. With the nasalization and over-stressed Rs, I'd guess that he's probably Japanese. It's a pretty standard mistake for a Japanese person that's trying to sound American. All the comedians on TV talk that way, so the kids do it, too. They all end up sounding like bad caricatures of Wario.

I'm sure that the voice "artist" speaks English well. Just not like a native. And kids need to hear a native, or else they'll go around saying FRY chicken, yogart, and homburrgurr, sending the whole world in a downward spiral toward its eventual cataclysmic doom.

You want to teach kids that there are different accents in South Africa, Australia, America, and England? Getting a South African, Australian, American, or English person to record some dialogue would seem helpful, right? Here’s what we actually get:



Yes, that’s right. Richard Brant’n and Chongi are the same person. He’s from Korea AND Australlia. And he likes boisboll, among other sporrrts. Seriously. How hard would it be to get an actual Australian to do an Australian accent?

And I get the whole "there are different accents" angle. But an American faking an Australian accent is bad. These are things I shouldn't have to bear:

• An American faking a Korean-English accent
• An American faking a French-English accent
• An American faking an Italian-English accent

Why is it necessary for kids to learn how other countries incorrectly pronounce English? Do I study Japanese by listening to how Chinese people speak it?****

****No.

Eigo noto's got a lot a good in it, but they need to fix this stuff if they want it to be effective. They can start with new voice actors:



So let me get this straight--I'm supposed to know how a Frenchman, a Japanese man, a Korean, and a dog speak English? Oh, and I'm pretty sure that Chongert is also the dog.

Eigo Noto and the Role of ALTs

A lot of people come to Japan expecting their assistant language teacher position to require a lot of work and responsibility, only to find themselves sitting in the staff room for hours each day. On the other hand, a ton of ALTs have no teaching aspirations and get frustrated when their schools have the gall to expect them to do anything. I'm somewhere between the two examples, in that I came to Japan expecting a lot of work, but am actually okay with it when they don't give me anything to do. After all, my main goal in coming to Japan is to learn Japanese, and the fewer classes I have to teach, the more time I can dedicate to studying.

A popular saying among JET Program participants is "every situation is different." I've witnessed its truth. When I was on Uoshima, I taught between zero and three lessons per day, though one class was probably the daily average. Most weeks, I'd teach about 8 lessons, three or four of which were prepared by my teaching partner. The remaining classes required my own lesson planning and teaching. Given that there was only one person per class, I wasn't able to recycle much of my lesson material. While it was nice to have complete freedom in the lesson planning stage, it consumed a lot of my time and caused a lot of stress.

Here in Imabari, I teach at five different schools, three of which have class sizes between 25 and 40. At four of my five schools (including both of my junior high schools), lessons are generally prepared by the English teachers, and I just show up and participate in the lesson.

The Ministry of Education has developed Eigo Noto (English Notebook), a two-volume set of English textbooks that kids all over Japan are expected to study during fifth and sixth grade. The books come with an audio CD an interactive CD-rom companion that can be played on a laptop hooked to a projector as a teaching help. It also comes with a teacher's manual that has lesson plans written in Japanese, so that the Japanese homeroom teachers that are forced to teach English with an ALT won't have to stress about preparing a lesson. They merely need to refer to the guide, which breaks everything down into lessons.

Of course, it doesn't always work that way. There are plenty of occasions at the elementary school where Eigo Noto lessons supposedly prepared by the teacher are new to both me and the teacher with whom I'm team-teaching. During those awkward times, I do my best to take control of the lesson and relieve some of the pressure on the other teacher. Even though things aren't perfect, they usually work out just fine in the end, even if there's a little discomfort. Just having a lesson plan to follow, even if it's lackluster, is still a good start.

Two of my three elementary schools use Eigo Noto, and one of them is expected to, but consistently leaves me hanging. At that school, it's basically all up to me, and that puts a lot of wear on my body. I usually have to teach four large classes each time I go (which is less than many other ALTs, so I guess I can't complain). The problem with that school is that the teachers don't know how to use Eigo Noto. When I teach fifth and sixth grade there, the teachers are expected to have prepared a lesson beforehand, yet they generally come to me and ask if I've prepared anything. I'm perfectly happy with preparing lessons—I just need to know in advance. The preferred method, however, would be for them to be involved with the lesson planning from Eigo Noto, so that we could both have an idea of what the heck is going on in our lessons.

Anyway, all this is just a long way of saying that Eigo Noto, which I have previously poked fun at, is useful. It's a very convenient way to help Japanese teachers who can't speak much English to prepare English lessons for use with an ALT.

Given the dearth of qualified English teachers in Japan, the Ministry of Education has to settle for the next best thing: a standardized text and ALTs. Given the high cost of hiring and transporting ALTs, they're forced to split us up between a bunch of schools. Not all ALTs, mind you, teach at a lot of schools, but most do. Because of differing ALT usage, it makes sense that the Ministry of Education wants Japanese home room teachers to have enough materials to teach without an ALT, while still making the lessons ALT and native speaker-friendly. I fully support this model, since there's likely no better solution.

Now that I've given this disclaimer, I'd like to talk about some of the shortcomings of Eigo Noto. If you want to teach kids effectively, it's important that you correct mistakes in the text and other teaching materials. I'll break it down as a separate post, so that people who don't care about why I'm criticizing the book don't have to read this post to get to the good stuff.