You Bring Light In

With so few aquaintances in Tokyo and more time spent on trains than sleeping, I've assigned personas to some of the inanimate objects I encounter every day. A few of the Tokyo Metro trains lines have taken on lives of their own; each has it's own unique personality. The Oedo Line is a chameleon, looping through all areas of the city, transporting any and all members of Tokyo's ifinite subcultures, leaving it a jittery yet exhausted mirky magenta at the end of the day. The Namboku Line is detatched, cool, and aloof, despite being situated right in the middle of all the action. It's been assigned a non-intrusive schoolroom green for color identification on Metro signs and maps. Glass partitions, opening only to let commuters on or off, sctretch across the platform, granting free range to toddlers and muting the screeches and occasional sparks as wheels grind on tracks.

The northernmost Namboku stops are way out of the city: Akabane, Oji, and Urawa in Saitama. The very last suburban station abandons you amidst farms, three-story apartment buildings, and ma and pa shops. An hour and fifteen minute trip south on the same line are stations including Roppongi 1-Chome and Azabu-Juban. The latter reminds me of parts of Manhattan: after-work crowds undo ties and talk shit over pinot noir and music chosen for its indistinctiveness. There are quite a few foreigners floating around, but not the kind who teach English in cubicles, wear fanny-packs while squinting at city maps, or own a copy of Let's Go Japan. The kind who park wherever they want, have diplomat plates, emerge from behind tinted windows, and put most expenses on the company account.

As the Nanboku cuts north through the city, it hooks up with the Oedo, Ginza (mustard yellow), Marunochi (Vodafone red) , Toei-Shinjuku (nearly chartreuse), Tozai (hospital scrubs blue), and Mita (navy) lines. I get the Oedo via the Namboku when I need to head towards east Tokyo and meet with the agency that hired me to work at the high school. (Last Wednesday I was called in to discuss the contract for the next school year, which begins in just over three months.)

So from where I work, getting to east Tokyo is anything but a problem. The infinitely resourceful www.hyperdia.com lists the travel time from my school to the office headquarters at just under twenty minutes, including hoof time. I'd be getting the Oedo Line at Iidabashi, staying on for just 3 or 4 stations.

Little things like subway trips offer aesthetic pleasure if you're in the right head; they become events and not simply the dead minutes between doing other "important" things. They have a tiny universe all their own and can be mini-journeys in and of themselves. Tokyo's just the city for it too. Wire your head with some mp3s that roust your senses, and the underground Metro-scape of of tunnels, lights, space, and air begin to rival Tokyo MOMA installations or dancefloor light design.. Getting the Oedo at Iidabashi last Wednesday proved to be one the more memorable of these little jaunts in recent memory.

I drew uneasy and irritated glares from black-suited commuters as I snapped pic after pic with my phone. Within the maze leading to the Oedo Line, light tubes are impossibly strung across the ceilings above escalators. One enormous tunnel, straight out of Gattica or The Fifth Element curves endlessly to the left. Putting the photos through a negative filter transformed the dark and uniformed salary men and OLs into ghosts or angels.

That's enough, I'll just let the photos say it.

Critical Thinking: Removed at a Very Young Age

A friend who is currently wrapping up a three-year stint as a university teacher in here Japan has exorcised a few negative demons by discussing at length some of the curious and frustrating student behavior he's experienced. This is one memorable excerpt:

When it comes to figuring out the meaning of an unknown word, it is evident that students trust their dictionary more than me. I frequently remind my students that the translation that they get for words and expressions may be inaccurate or inappropriate, and for this reason it's best to consult with a native speaker when there is uncertainty. However, it's rare that students will ask me about a word. This lack of questioning is symptomatic of the larger problem of the way that students and teachers interact. What do Japanese teachers implicitly teach their students about learning? That questions are unacceptable? Or maybe just not part of the way of doing things. I guess it all goes back to Confucianism and simply not questioning, but accepting everything uncritically. They must train their students to sit silently be passive, listening recipients or at least to look like they're listening. If a student does ask a question, they risk standing out in class and becoming the object of scorn of their classmates, maybe. Concern about what others think outweighs everything else. So you may think it's futile to bother posting a question to the class considering that it's almost guaranteed that I will not get an answer. I still do it now and then just to see what will happen. 5% of the time I will get an answer. But it will often be the same person, that brave soul who does not care about standing out or maybe already does for other reasons. I once had a student who regularly engaged me in class. Was it a coincidence that she was bound to a wheelchair?

Here's a bit of my response to him:

It seems to me that a shockingly high number of young people in this society

1. can't just throw caution to the wind and just "play along"
2. even when able to throw caution to the wind often refuse to "play along"
3. are generally picky and easily upset by anything out of the norm.

Sound unfair? I've been here five years and I'm searching for evidence to the contrary. The source of the finicky attitudes among university students might be a matter of dispute, but its presence is no secret to anyone. The fact is, the students really are spoon fed in other areas both in and out of the classroom (as you know I'm sure) and there's not a whole lot of deep figuring out to be done in ways that help to develop certain problem solving skills and cognitive strategies. Children in Japan are generally not given the opportunity to develop the cognitive tools to learn languages, and other a few other things that involve similar types of engagement and critical thinking.

This little exchange catches us in an admittedly aggressive mood, but these comments would be likely uncontroversial to those who've been at the head of a Japanese classroom, heart ablaze with the intention of arming learners with skills and motivation.

What do you think? I welcome comments.