Holidays (again)

Well. Apologies for the delay in posting! I've been meaning to write a post since forever ago, but life happens and I keep pushing it aside. I feel like nothing super interesting is happening, even though every day is in and of itself more interesting, in some ways, than anything I've ever experienced before. I'm having one of the most unique experiences I've ever had or ever will have, but thinking about it like that makes me intimidated by its importance, so I try to just live life normally. Winter has made me haze over, but I'll attempt form coherent themes out of my ranging, fleeting, meandering thoughts.

Checking out Kusatsu, the most famous onsen resort in all of Japan, and a part of my prefecture.


I. Winter's Cold

There were about 3 weeks that were neither too hot nor too cold. Japan is both a very hot and very cold country. In August I could be naked in my room at 3 in the morning and still be warm; in December I can be wrapped in sweats and flannel blankets and 3 pairs of socks at noon on a sunny day and still be freezing. I'm what the Japanese call a samugari, which means my body is sensitive to cold. Coming from a mild Californian climate, my body's previous known notions of "cold," "colder," and "coldest" are far, far surpassed by the sensations of coldness I experience here. When I walk to Japanese class at night, even though I'm wearing at minimum 3 layers all over, a wool coat, a neck-warmer, gloves, and a hat, the cold is disorienting. I pull my neck-warmer over my mouth and nose to keep them from turning numb, but my exhalation of breath shoves upward and my glasses fog. At school my fellow teachers ask me how I'm adjusting to the Japanese winter, and I can't begin to convey to them how new this is to me. I'm not sure how much is nature and how much is nurture, but I think being raised in a colder climate really does acclimate one's body (or at least their mind) to the cold better.

The first snow was last week. Snow is still a novelty to me so it's exciting despite the hassle and the cold. 危ない！They tell me at the BoE and at school. 気をつけて！Be careful! Don't drive over slippery snow and ice!

My body, and my mind, feel a shift; they're in a different place in winter. But I felt that way every year in California too. I have less physical energy, I want to be outdoors less, I want to do less and sleep more. Am I a bear or other type of hibernating creature?

And it's still autumn. Winter officially starts on December 21st. Three more months to go! Until then, I may be outside as little as possible.

Jumping for joy at a foliage-covered road on the way to Oze National Park. Although it was a great day, it was also an almost completely silent day. My incredibly kind friends humored me by playing charades, lip-reading, and reading my iPhone notes from me all day long.


II. Vocal Nodules

So for those of you not in the know, I was (re-)diagnosed with vocal nodules in mid-October. To try and make a long story I've explained many times short, vocal nodules are like tiny blisters or calcifications which appear bilaterally on one's vocal folds. They arise from various forms of vocal overuse or misuse. Singers and teachers are prone to them (of which I am both, hey!) because they are professional voice users. The reasons for forming nodules are multifaceted, but I think in my case, they arose due to a combination of certain environmental factors and the loud, clear, over-enunciated style of teaching I was performing all day at school. When you phonate, your vocal folds strike each other/vibrate (which produces the sound), and just like your palm can get a blister from using the monkey bars one too many times, so can your vocal folds develop inflammation from overuse, which can harden into a tough blister and--ta-da--vocal nodules. Your vocal folds are supposed to be flush with one another, but when nodules form, they can't close completely, sending air through the vocal folds. This makes your voice weaker and dries it out.

So, I went on vocal rest. I took a week off work, and I didn't talk at all for 9 days. For many more weeks after that, I only talked as needed during my 3 or 4 classes per day at school, and remained more or less silent otherwise. I have made necessary changes to ensure that all environmental factors are eliminated--I get enough sleep every night, I am well-hydrated, I eat anti-inflammatory and throat-soothing foods, I use a humidifier, I stretch my neck and shoulders throughout the day. Most importantly, I have been going to speech therapy for a few weeks now (over Skype--yay for the internet!) I have been learning reasons why I may have been damaging my voice as I was teaching and singing, and learning appropriate vocal techniques and exercises for ensuring proper placement and use of the speaking voice. For people in professions who use their voice all day long, it's very important to understand proper voice use. Especially for me since I want to be a singing teacher, and singing requires much more vocal control and subtlety than speaking, having a healthy and strong voice is essential for my livelihood for the rest of my life.

A few weeks were really bad. I cried on more than a few occasions. Why did this have to happen to me? And here? How will I maintain relationships here? How will I do my job? Not being able to use your voice has huge psychological effects, especially for an extrovert like me. I wondered if I would have to go home. I wondered if I would have to have surgery (like Adele's, which was a success, and like Julie Andrews', which was a failure.) But slowly, and seemingly from nothing, my voice gradually started getting stronger. I could talk for longer and longer periods without feeling tired. I could speak longer sentences without needing to drink water to quench my throat. And though I still have a long way to go, especially in regards to singing, I feel I've made some good strides so far. I am able to do my job fully, which is the most important thing.

And as much as I like feeling sorry for myself, I had to admit to myself that it's rather good, opportune even, that this happen to me HERE rather than back in the states. Why you ask? There are a few reasons. One is that I have less responsibility and fewer teaching demands here. Just 7 months ago, I was student-teaching every day from 8:00 to 12:20. That's 4 hours, with just two 10-minute breaks. No co-teacher, just me and the kids. Then, I would go teach 3 or 4 private voice lessons or ESL lessons, or have a 3-hour discussion class, then I might go to a choir rehearsal, and then go home to my four roommates and my shared room. That's a lot of vocal demand, both talking and singing, every day. Here, I am at work from 8:00-4:00, but I only teach 3 or 4 classes per day. That's at maximum, 4 hours of teaching, in which I co-teach with a Japanese English teacher or homeroom teacher, and share talking responsibilities. Then, while the other Japanese teachers chatter on in Japanese in the teacher's room, I get to play my gaijin (foreigner) card and remain silent. I use the computer, I plan lessons, I study Japanese, but I don't talk much. Then, I get to go home to my studio apartment where I live alone and remain silent for the rest of the evening. I also don't have any singing demands of me here. It's the first time in my life since I was 12 years old that I haven't been a member of a choir or teaching a choir. So I didn't have to quit anything, or cancel anything--I could just live my normal life here, without talking much. Although it saddens me to not use my voice too much when I DO go out to social events, the fact that my daily life doesn't require strenuous talking or singing is very crucial to my vocal survival right now. So it's heartening for me to realize and remember that.

I have more to say about my work life but I will save it for a future post, for this has lengthened far more than I thought it would.

Thanksgiving dinner in Japan, made especially for ALTs at the Prefectural Office's own café.

I recently braved the below-freezing temperatures outside, at the top of a mountain, at night. I took in the illuminations spectacular at the top of Gunma's Mt. Haruna and her caldera lake, Lake Haruna.