Anachronisms
As the 21st century unfolds, the Asian market is expected to be the emerging frontier capable of propelling the global economy into a period of unparalleled progress. Japan is also expected to continue leading the field with modern technological innovations that I haven't yet witnessed in my own country.
My cell phone—which is the standard factory model that comes free with a one-year plan—rivals my first computer that came with Windows 98. I met a doctor at a bar who pulled out this sleek, burnished, jet-black futuristic looking cell phone that probably had the ability to manipulate the weather. I conservatively estimate that it cost more than one-month's rent for my apartment. I've seen technology in its cradle, and yet still at my high school I've seen enough anachronisms that make me wonder if I've in fact traveled back in time 30 or 40 years.
Chapter the First : Large Heating Machines
There is no central heating in Japanese Schools. Instead they use a device I've given the name, 'The Machine.' I don't know what to call these things. Space heaters? Blast ovens? Miniature nuclear reactors? I've never seen one in my life so I expected them to give everyone radiation suits when they brought out and assembled this clunking machine from deep within its resting place in the darkest corner of the time chamber.
It runs on kerosene, a fuel I haven't seen since I went camping, and when the meter is low they bring out these plastic tanks and refill them with a plastic siphoning tube while the flame is still very much lit. When my supervisor—who has a strange aura of Amelia Bedelia-ness surrounding her—beings to refuel 'The Machine' I go to the other side of the teacher's office. I wait by the door with my cup of tea so that when the impending ball of fire starts to erupt and sweep across the room I'll be the first one out. Once I got used to the fact that they placed 'The Machine' directly behind me, it took me a while to get used to the incessant hissing. The flames seemed to be quietly whispering into my ear, "Alex...just wait...one day…I want to play with you..."
After I slowly began ruling out this possibility and I was comfortable with sitting next to a hazardous chunk of hot steel and fire, I began to ask myself, why the hell did they wait so long?? It got cold in November. I remember shivering in class while wondering how my students weren't freezing their asses off in those one-piece school uniforms. The people in charge don't wait for it to get cold. No, that would make too much sense. Instead they set a certain date. It was sometime in December I think. Before they brought out the machines I had a fallout with a teacher who said that students weren't allowed to wear a 'muffler' (scarf) in school. I wanted to reply with,
It's a damn good thing I'm a teacher!
But instead I told her it was cold and I didn't want to die so I continued to wear it.
When 'The Machine' is put into use, it only affects people sitting directly near it. When they aren't at their desks, all the teachers huddle around the machine with their cups of coffee and complain to each other about how cold it is. As I mentioned, I was lucky to share such close proximity, and often times I would turn around in my swivel chair, and read my book while straddling the machine to thaw out my popsicle legs. I had another fallout with a teacher—a self-appointed mentor of Japanese modesty—who said that it wasn't proper to sit like that, and once again I said stubbornly,
If I don't then I'll die. I don't want to die.
Both teachers haven't talked to me since. There are 50 or so other teachers who I'm on pretty friendly terms with so it doesn't bother me one bit.
...more chapters when I have time...
My cell phone—which is the standard factory model that comes free with a one-year plan—rivals my first computer that came with Windows 98. I met a doctor at a bar who pulled out this sleek, burnished, jet-black futuristic looking cell phone that probably had the ability to manipulate the weather. I conservatively estimate that it cost more than one-month's rent for my apartment. I've seen technology in its cradle, and yet still at my high school I've seen enough anachronisms that make me wonder if I've in fact traveled back in time 30 or 40 years.
Chapter the First : Large Heating Machines
There is no central heating in Japanese Schools. Instead they use a device I've given the name, 'The Machine.' I don't know what to call these things. Space heaters? Blast ovens? Miniature nuclear reactors? I've never seen one in my life so I expected them to give everyone radiation suits when they brought out and assembled this clunking machine from deep within its resting place in the darkest corner of the time chamber.
It runs on kerosene, a fuel I haven't seen since I went camping, and when the meter is low they bring out these plastic tanks and refill them with a plastic siphoning tube while the flame is still very much lit. When my supervisor—who has a strange aura of Amelia Bedelia-ness surrounding her—beings to refuel 'The Machine' I go to the other side of the teacher's office. I wait by the door with my cup of tea so that when the impending ball of fire starts to erupt and sweep across the room I'll be the first one out. Once I got used to the fact that they placed 'The Machine' directly behind me, it took me a while to get used to the incessant hissing. The flames seemed to be quietly whispering into my ear, "Alex...just wait...one day…I want to play with you..."
After I slowly began ruling out this possibility and I was comfortable with sitting next to a hazardous chunk of hot steel and fire, I began to ask myself, why the hell did they wait so long?? It got cold in November. I remember shivering in class while wondering how my students weren't freezing their asses off in those one-piece school uniforms. The people in charge don't wait for it to get cold. No, that would make too much sense. Instead they set a certain date. It was sometime in December I think. Before they brought out the machines I had a fallout with a teacher who said that students weren't allowed to wear a 'muffler' (scarf) in school. I wanted to reply with,
It's a damn good thing I'm a teacher!
But instead I told her it was cold and I didn't want to die so I continued to wear it.
When 'The Machine' is put into use, it only affects people sitting directly near it. When they aren't at their desks, all the teachers huddle around the machine with their cups of coffee and complain to each other about how cold it is. As I mentioned, I was lucky to share such close proximity, and often times I would turn around in my swivel chair, and read my book while straddling the machine to thaw out my popsicle legs. I had another fallout with a teacher—a self-appointed mentor of Japanese modesty—who said that it wasn't proper to sit like that, and once again I said stubbornly,
If I don't then I'll die. I don't want to die.
Both teachers haven't talked to me since. There are 50 or so other teachers who I'm on pretty friendly terms with so it doesn't bother me one bit.
...more chapters when I have time...
posted by Alex Cruz at
3:03 AM
3 Comments:
ha
hmmm, were you wearing school slippers at the time you were sitting by the heater?
indeed i was...
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