Since I didn't have time for sightseeing while I was in Tokushima, forgetting my pen became a blessing in disguise.
When I first came to Japan, over 20 years ago, I used to wonder why everyone I met knew the phrase "do you have a pen?" and often tried it out on me when they saw me. I later learned that this was one of the first phrases students learned in their school English classes. Over the years I have wondered who would ever think that learning the phrase "do you have a pen?" would lead to any sort of meaningful conversation.
Well, between sessions at the Toastmasters conference, I slipped out of the building to find a convenience store and buy a pen. However, I soon found that unlike Fukuoka where there is practically a convenience store every 100 meters, there were NO convenience stores to be seen! I walked and walked and walked and walked. No convenience stores. After a fair distance, I realized that I needed to turn back or I would miss the next session of the conference altogether.
I decided to go down a few streets and find an alternate route on the way back in the hopes of finding a convenience store there. Well, I didn't find a convenience store, but I did find a lovely path along a river where I could enjoy a beautiful view as I walked in the sunshine. Along the way, an elderly gentleman on a bicycle asked me "where from?" That began a nice chat during which we exchanged pleasantries.
I returned to the conference and took the next opportunity I had to run outside and go off in the opposite direction in search of a pen. In that direction I came upon a "paper" shop. I thought to myself, "where there is paper, there will be pens." Unfortunately, this paper shop turned out to be a very specialized shop that really sold ONLY paper! It was run by another elderly gentleman, and as I was the only patron in the quiet shop, I felt compelled to buy something before leaving. I ended up buying a small package of overpriced facial oil blotting paper. But I got the chance to share a smile and a few words with the proprietor and happily went on my way.
Finally, I was resigned to return in the direction of my hotel near the train station. I had a pen in my room, so I thought it was about time for me to make the trek back there to get it. To my surprise, about halfway there I finally found a convenience store where I bought a pen for 105yen.
In the end, my forgotten pen was the one thing that led me outside to where I could see a bit of the lovely city of Tokushima. I don't have any photos, but I have my memories of my pen-searching adventure, and adventure truly worth the taking!
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Toastmasters District Conference 2010
Toastmasters is a club for learning public speaking and leadership skills. It was started in the 1920's in the USA by a teacher who wanted to give his young pupils a chance to become leaders and the ability to stand up in front of others and give speeches with confidence. A "toast" is a short speech given before clinking our wine/beer/softdrink glasses together in celebration of something. Toasts are very common at Japanese parties and at weddings and other celebrations in many countries around the world. Toastmasters has now become internationally known as a great place for non-native speakers of English to brush up their skills and get the confidence they need to speak in front of others on various occasions.
This morning, at the first workshop "How to be a fascinating presenter" I realized I had left my pen in my suitcase in the hotel room. I didn't have time to run back to my hotel, so I shyly asked the registration desk if I could borrow one. After the workshop I returned their pen with many apologies. Little did I know at the time, that forgetting my pen was about to lead me on an adventure in Tokushima . . .
Thursday, May 20, 2010
The Gift of Feedback
Today I’ve been reading the feedback my students wrote for each other and for me in one of my classes. The class has nearly 100 students, so I’m using a Team-Based Learning (TBL) strategy to teach it. One important tenet of TBL is that students evaluate their team members. We have one evaluation halfway through the course, so students will have the feedback early enough to use it to make improvements before the final evaluation at the end of the term. The final evaluation counts toward the final grade.
Each student writes something they appreciate about each member of their team and something they would like to request of that team member. In this way, each student receives some praise and something that they need to work on. Some students really shy away from writing any requests, which is regrettable because I think it will really help them throughout their lives to be able to give constructive criticism.
I can think of many situations in which tactful and well timed constructive criticism has greatly improved my life. I’ve been married 20 years and I can tell you that gracefully giving and receiving feedback is what has kept us together this long. Of course we weren’t always good at this. In the beginning of our lives together, I was the one who was constantly giving feedback to my husband—sometimes not very tactfully, and he was the one who kept everything inside until he reached the point where the dam broke. He was very much like a volcano, dormant for a while but prone to explode. We loved each other, but we had no idea how to communicate and give each other feedback properly. My ongoing narration of things that I was displeased with was like a constant drip—a sort of torture for him. And his eruptions were hurtful and confusing for me since he often gave me feedback on a multitude of things that had bothered him over the last 6 months, sometimes things I had done or said that I couldn’t even remember. I would be in tears and certainly not in the mood to improve myself to please him.
So, feedback needs to be timely and offered along with a spoonful of sugar (a bit of praise for something that the person does well). This is something my husband and I have learned to do, though we still make a lot of mistakes.
Feedback has also been important with my children, my friends, and in my workplace. It can be very very difficult to give feedback to someone who is not a family member. I can still clearly remember times that I have followed my husband’s volcanic example and kept things inside to the point of being totally in tears and unable to coherently explain the reason for my distress to my employer or coworkers because I had let stress build up inside of me and waited too long to say anything.
So, dear students, I hope that you all learn to give and receive feedback in a timely and constructive manner. It won’t just help you as a student, but as a professional, a spouse, a parent, and a friend.
Think of feedback as the best gift you can give someone. Take a moment to decide how you want to “wrap” your gift, and take advantage of the endless possibilities for improvement in yourself and others.
Each student writes something they appreciate about each member of their team and something they would like to request of that team member. In this way, each student receives some praise and something that they need to work on. Some students really shy away from writing any requests, which is regrettable because I think it will really help them throughout their lives to be able to give constructive criticism.
I can think of many situations in which tactful and well timed constructive criticism has greatly improved my life. I’ve been married 20 years and I can tell you that gracefully giving and receiving feedback is what has kept us together this long. Of course we weren’t always good at this. In the beginning of our lives together, I was the one who was constantly giving feedback to my husband—sometimes not very tactfully, and he was the one who kept everything inside until he reached the point where the dam broke. He was very much like a volcano, dormant for a while but prone to explode. We loved each other, but we had no idea how to communicate and give each other feedback properly. My ongoing narration of things that I was displeased with was like a constant drip—a sort of torture for him. And his eruptions were hurtful and confusing for me since he often gave me feedback on a multitude of things that had bothered him over the last 6 months, sometimes things I had done or said that I couldn’t even remember. I would be in tears and certainly not in the mood to improve myself to please him.
So, feedback needs to be timely and offered along with a spoonful of sugar (a bit of praise for something that the person does well). This is something my husband and I have learned to do, though we still make a lot of mistakes.
Feedback has also been important with my children, my friends, and in my workplace. It can be very very difficult to give feedback to someone who is not a family member. I can still clearly remember times that I have followed my husband’s volcanic example and kept things inside to the point of being totally in tears and unable to coherently explain the reason for my distress to my employer or coworkers because I had let stress build up inside of me and waited too long to say anything.
So, dear students, I hope that you all learn to give and receive feedback in a timely and constructive manner. It won’t just help you as a student, but as a professional, a spouse, a parent, and a friend.
Think of feedback as the best gift you can give someone. Take a moment to decide how you want to “wrap” your gift, and take advantage of the endless possibilities for improvement in yourself and others.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
A Kanzaki Country Doctor
One of the best books I have read lately is called, “An Irish Country Doctor” by Patrick Taylor. It tells a quaint tale of how a country doctor in Ireland becomes deeply entwined in the lives of the people in his community.
Today, I will tell of my experience with a Kanzaki country doctor. A bit of history: Kanzaki, in Saga prefecture, is where I live. It is far from the hustle and bustle of the big city of Fukuoka where I teach. I live there by choice. When my husband’s job moved to Saga City, we considered living there, but found our home in the more affordable town (now city, though nothing seems to have changed) of Kanzaki. We have now lived in Kanzaki for 6 years and have visited some of the small clinics for various family ailments.
In February, I visited the small clinic of a gastroenterologist in Kanzaki for the first time. I was having some bothersome stomach pain and was given some very effective medicine with the promise that “next time we can take a look inside your stomach.” I was suddenly very apprehensive because I had experienced the incredibly uncomfortable and embarrassing procedure of having a photogastroscope—a tube with a tiny camera on the end—inserted down my throat through my mouth and into my stomach 20 years before when we lived in Kumamoto City. The discomfort and embarrassment stemmed from the fact that my gag reflex went into overdrive when I had the camera stuck down my throat and started trying to vomit the thing out. On top of that, the disgusting sound of gas being belched up from my stomach was loud enough to make everyone in the waiting room lose their appetite. I certainly didn’t want to go through that again!! After that test, 20 years ago, I was convinced that I would rather die than go through that procedure again. However, 10 years later, the stress of being in graduate school and having two kids (aged 2 and 5) drove me back to the gastroenterologist in the City of Minamata, where we lived at the time. This time, the doctor told me that they put all of their patients under general anesthesia before using the photogastroscope. I gratefully slept through the entire procedure.
Fast forward to today. I’m over 40, so it is recommended that I have a yearly test with the photogastroscope to check the health of my stomach—and that nagging pain is back. I called yesterday and made an appointment to have my stomach “literally” looked at. The doctor has assured me that he uses the latest procedure, which means the scope is inserted through the nose rather than the mouth. He explained that it is much more comfortable than the oral way. He also explained that he doesn’t use general anesthesia because there is a risk of heart attack (myocardial infarction) for patients undergoing the procedure that way. I find myself inadvertently becoming very impressed with the doctor for his thorough explanation, and somehow I’m beginning to feel at ease.
Why? What is this phenomenon that takes place between a doctor and patient that causes the patient to begin to trust?
Well, dear students, let me tell you what it is. It’s communication. Yes! We were communicating. He was gaining my trust through his gentle manner and communication.
After checking my heart with the stethoscope, I was led into another room where the nurse took my blood pressure. “Ninety over seventy, quite low. Perhaps I can stay calm during this procedure since my blood pressure is so low,” I begin to say to myself. And then “Oh, please God, help me to relax and not gag! Please make the nasal entry an easier way for me! Amen.” I’m given a shot. I don’t know what the shot is for, but when I ask ,the nurse kindly explains that it’s to stop my stomach muscles from contracting during the procedure. She takes me into another room where she uses a nasal spray that will prevent my nose from bleeding followed by anesthesia through my nose that flows through and coats my throat. She’s very kind and thoroughly explains what she’s doing as she adds comments like “Oh sorry! That tastes bitter doesn’t it. Take another tissue.”
By the time my nose and throat are numb and we’re ready to start, I feel calm. Strangely calm. I feel completely confident that everything will be OK. Then the doctor starts the procedure. He deftly explains every step of the procedure. His voice is like a narrator telling the story as we go along. We’re in the right nostril, now the throat, there is the pharynx. We’re going down the esophagus, now entering the stomach.” I find myself translating his Japanese narration into English in my head and imagine myself teaching my students to communicate this way. It’s so smooth and natural. It’s just right. Once in a while I gag and the nurse rubs my back and the doctor says “go ahead and belch, it’s OK.” But the belching and gagging is very minimal compared to the traumatic experience I had 20 years ago. After the scope is out, the doctor explains each of the pictures he took. My stomach, and everything else we see is pink and healthy, aside from a few tiny spots of blood. Hooray! Diagnosis: “acute gastritis from stress, take these pills for one week, then take only when you feel pain. A very simple thing, I could have taken over the counter (OTC) meds for it, but I’m happy and relieved to know for sure that everything’s fine. And I’m happy to have met a very fine country doctor.
As I wait for them to call my name to pay and get my prescription, I look around at the other patients waiting their turn. There are many elderly people and I can hear the doctor raising the volume of his voice to be heard by a hard-of-hearing patient. He speaks to the patient like he knows her. Surely he does. He is a part of this community—an important part.
Before I leave, the doctor walks by and says “there is a lot of French Lavender growing in the garden outside. You can pick some if you’d like.” And my heart is warmed.
So, dear students, wherever you find yourselves in the future—whether it is a big busy city hospital or a tiny village clinic—you have the possibility to become a very important person to those you help. I hope that you will be an excellent communicator and a comforter. Because if even one person a day is comforted by you, you will have done more than many people get to do in a lifetime.
Today, I will tell of my experience with a Kanzaki country doctor. A bit of history: Kanzaki, in Saga prefecture, is where I live. It is far from the hustle and bustle of the big city of Fukuoka where I teach. I live there by choice. When my husband’s job moved to Saga City, we considered living there, but found our home in the more affordable town (now city, though nothing seems to have changed) of Kanzaki. We have now lived in Kanzaki for 6 years and have visited some of the small clinics for various family ailments.
In February, I visited the small clinic of a gastroenterologist in Kanzaki for the first time. I was having some bothersome stomach pain and was given some very effective medicine with the promise that “next time we can take a look inside your stomach.” I was suddenly very apprehensive because I had experienced the incredibly uncomfortable and embarrassing procedure of having a photogastroscope—a tube with a tiny camera on the end—inserted down my throat through my mouth and into my stomach 20 years before when we lived in Kumamoto City. The discomfort and embarrassment stemmed from the fact that my gag reflex went into overdrive when I had the camera stuck down my throat and started trying to vomit the thing out. On top of that, the disgusting sound of gas being belched up from my stomach was loud enough to make everyone in the waiting room lose their appetite. I certainly didn’t want to go through that again!! After that test, 20 years ago, I was convinced that I would rather die than go through that procedure again. However, 10 years later, the stress of being in graduate school and having two kids (aged 2 and 5) drove me back to the gastroenterologist in the City of Minamata, where we lived at the time. This time, the doctor told me that they put all of their patients under general anesthesia before using the photogastroscope. I gratefully slept through the entire procedure.
Fast forward to today. I’m over 40, so it is recommended that I have a yearly test with the photogastroscope to check the health of my stomach—and that nagging pain is back. I called yesterday and made an appointment to have my stomach “literally” looked at. The doctor has assured me that he uses the latest procedure, which means the scope is inserted through the nose rather than the mouth. He explained that it is much more comfortable than the oral way. He also explained that he doesn’t use general anesthesia because there is a risk of heart attack (myocardial infarction) for patients undergoing the procedure that way. I find myself inadvertently becoming very impressed with the doctor for his thorough explanation, and somehow I’m beginning to feel at ease.
Why? What is this phenomenon that takes place between a doctor and patient that causes the patient to begin to trust?
Well, dear students, let me tell you what it is. It’s communication. Yes! We were communicating. He was gaining my trust through his gentle manner and communication.
After checking my heart with the stethoscope, I was led into another room where the nurse took my blood pressure. “Ninety over seventy, quite low. Perhaps I can stay calm during this procedure since my blood pressure is so low,” I begin to say to myself. And then “Oh, please God, help me to relax and not gag! Please make the nasal entry an easier way for me! Amen.” I’m given a shot. I don’t know what the shot is for, but when I ask ,the nurse kindly explains that it’s to stop my stomach muscles from contracting during the procedure. She takes me into another room where she uses a nasal spray that will prevent my nose from bleeding followed by anesthesia through my nose that flows through and coats my throat. She’s very kind and thoroughly explains what she’s doing as she adds comments like “Oh sorry! That tastes bitter doesn’t it. Take another tissue.”
By the time my nose and throat are numb and we’re ready to start, I feel calm. Strangely calm. I feel completely confident that everything will be OK. Then the doctor starts the procedure. He deftly explains every step of the procedure. His voice is like a narrator telling the story as we go along. We’re in the right nostril, now the throat, there is the pharynx. We’re going down the esophagus, now entering the stomach.” I find myself translating his Japanese narration into English in my head and imagine myself teaching my students to communicate this way. It’s so smooth and natural. It’s just right. Once in a while I gag and the nurse rubs my back and the doctor says “go ahead and belch, it’s OK.” But the belching and gagging is very minimal compared to the traumatic experience I had 20 years ago. After the scope is out, the doctor explains each of the pictures he took. My stomach, and everything else we see is pink and healthy, aside from a few tiny spots of blood. Hooray! Diagnosis: “acute gastritis from stress, take these pills for one week, then take only when you feel pain. A very simple thing, I could have taken over the counter (OTC) meds for it, but I’m happy and relieved to know for sure that everything’s fine. And I’m happy to have met a very fine country doctor.
As I wait for them to call my name to pay and get my prescription, I look around at the other patients waiting their turn. There are many elderly people and I can hear the doctor raising the volume of his voice to be heard by a hard-of-hearing patient. He speaks to the patient like he knows her. Surely he does. He is a part of this community—an important part.
Before I leave, the doctor walks by and says “there is a lot of French Lavender growing in the garden outside. You can pick some if you’d like.” And my heart is warmed.
So, dear students, wherever you find yourselves in the future—whether it is a big busy city hospital or a tiny village clinic—you have the possibility to become a very important person to those you help. I hope that you will be an excellent communicator and a comforter. Because if even one person a day is comforted by you, you will have done more than many people get to do in a lifetime.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
With my Sweetheart
And here I am with my sweetheart. Our hobby these days is renting a motorcycle whenever we both have a free day (which isn't very often) and riding off to somewhere--anywhere--just enjoying the wind in our faces and the view that passes us by. Overt affection isn't very 'acceptable' in Japan--especially for upstanding citizens like ourselves (haha!). So riding gives me the opportunity to HUG my sweetheart in front of the whole world without worrying about being considered uncouth.
Wisteria at Karatsu Castle
Now THIS is more romantic. Wisteria, LOTS of it. We took a ride to Karatsu Castle where the wisteria was in full bloom. It was LOVELY!
Golden Week at My House
OK, so it doesn't sound very romantic, but I spent 4 of the 5 days of Golden Week doing home improvements this year. This is me painting our deck. When my Dad and father-in-law assembled the deck for us 6 years ago, I vowed that I wouldn't let the ravages of time (heat, rain, bugs) ruin its beauty. So, this year is the 5th time I have stained the deck. Come to think of it, I have probably spent a day during every Golden week (or thereabouts) staining the deck each year.
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