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Congrats
Mr. Coldfoot, C.Lump's (the Swingtown Nihongo sensei and
influential Short Sighted Crony Association board member) pet applicant
who's main qualifications besides a close association were his "past
interest in coming to Japan and his Japanese ability" came to Japan eight
days ago.
I began hearing strange stories about him even before his arrival.
Kristen Mann said that he was very quiet when she spoke to him in
Springfield two months ago. When she said in a friendly way, "So you and I
will be seeing a lot of each other in Isesaki," he replied in a lackluster
tone, "Uh yeah, I'll probably see you around, sometime." Also, Angie, who
just happened to be leaning against the door during his interview said that
all he asked about was money--what's the exchange rate doing, how do I send
my money home etc. as though he felt making a good impression and showing a
genuined interest in the Japan wasn't really necessary--like he already
had the job and knew it.
When I called him to welcome him to Japan, he seemed less than
excited. Long uncomfortable pauses. It was almost as bad as talking to
Ellis Henderson [oblique reference] over the phone. When asked about him
by other AETs in the area, I said that it seemed that when packing his
suitcases, he had forgotten his personality. Sunday morning, Rika and I
were just sitting down to have breakfast when the phone rang. I picked it
up like an idiot to find Mr. I (my ex-boss from Isesaki) on the other end
of the line.
"Ohayo gozaimasu," I answered.
"Uh, goodo moroningu."
"Oh hello, Mr. I," I said in my sickening sweet voice that I always
use with Isesaki city hall officials. "How are you on this morning?"
"Not so good." Uncomfortable breath sucking through teeth and I'm
thinking 'Oh, what now and he lives within a five minute walk from my
apartment to make things worse. "We have a big problem and I need your
help."
"Oh yeah, what's wrong?" I say, wanting to say, "Listen, I don't
work for you anymore, remember? Instead, restraint.
"Mr. Coldfoot just called me here at my house and said that he has
decided upon going home?"
"WHAT???" I say, honestly shocked, at first by the
unpredicatability of the event and then by the unbelieveably good fortune.
But I continue in the vein with many a "That's terrible"s and "What an
awful thing to happen"s.
"Yes, he said that he has already bought his plane ticket home and
will be leaving early tomorrow. So I am going to his apartment until now
from my house, which is very near to yours. Please come with me to
Isesaki, eto, mmmmmmmm, please your talking him about his staying in
Japan."
"Well actually Mr. I, my girlfriend and I are just sitting down to
have breakfast and then we have plans for the day. But I will be in
Isesaki later this evening. Maybe I could stop by his apartment then."
"Oh, I see, very good. So I will pick you up at your apartment.
Is five minutes from now too soon?" And not only was this guy an English
teacher; he now frequently observes other English teachers in the
classroom, afterwards critiquing their performance?
Basically reiterating, I add that I can't just simply run off and
leave Rika here, but that I'd be happy (happier than he can imagine) to
call Coldfoot and talk to him by phone.
So after having said all his good-byes and had whatever farewell
parties one would give for a common stone, he decided that he'd had enough
or that he didn't belong over here after all. As the Japanese say, "Un be
lie vable."
Given the fact that I resisted leaving after two years, thinking it
unfair that JETs can stay three years, but SSCA AETs can only stay two;
given the fact Isesaki city hall had a good thing going with me, always on
time, never sick, not to mention the fact that I was doing a great job in
the classroom, and I've gotten along with everyone (even the city hall
squares) and given the trouble they'd had with the previous AET who left
five months early, as well as other previous AETs who'd caused similar
problems, you'd think they'd adhere to the old adage, "If it ain't
fuckered, don't fix it." But due to the incapacity of pencil-pushing city
hall drones to think in any patterns but flatlandish right-angles, no one
had been willing to suggest that maybe keeping me was a good idea. It is a
far, far better place I have gone to.
After resigning myself to leaving, I had recommended a highly
qualified replacement to SSCA. "Angie Goodson,",I wrote that "is more
qualified for this job than I was when I came over. Like myself, she has a
M.A. in English, and teaching experience. Moreover, she is on the
committee of the Springfield Literacy Council and has been tutoring
illiterate Asin students for almost two years now. Considering her
background and her character I can't imagine anyone better suited for this
position." I also made numerous phone calls on her behalf and she made it
through to the final interview date. There was only one other person left.
A twenty-two year old with nothing more going for him than his close
association with one member of the SSCA committee. But it had been a
kangaroo-interview from the beginning. In any event, nepotism won that
day.
Afterwards I had directed several poignant questions, indirectly,
towards that member of the AET search committee. I said that I had my
doubts as to the legitimacy of the whole A.E.T. search process and that if
they had put my friend through such an emotional wringer with no
possibility of her getting the job, then shame on them. I was assured that
Ms. Goodson had been very close to getting the job but that in the end
Coldfoot had been selected on the basis of his long interest in coming to
Japan and his Japanese language ability.
The truth is that when Coldfoot joined in with the beginning level
Japanese class in Isesaki, he didn't even know the word for mother or
father. In fact, he could understand almost none of the extremely remedial
questions that were directed towards him. We began to wonder if he had
ever really studied Japanese state-side at all.
And now I've got my old boss on the phone telling me that HE needs
MY help. .With this in mind, I promised Mr. I that I would indeed give
Coldfoot a call. After finishing my scramble eggs and toast with Rika, I
made the call.
"Ohayo gozaimasu."
"Uh, good morning. David?"
"Yes. Good morning, Andrew. So what's going on?"
"Oh . . . not a whole lot."
"Really? That's funny, because I just had a call from your boss,
telling me that you bought a plane ticket yesterday."
"Oh yeah right..."
The rest of the conversation involved him telling me that he hadn't
been able to sleep at nights since he'd arrived, and other pathetic
psycho-babble about how he'd come over for all the wrong reasons. I
heartily agreed that Japan obviously wasn't for him and added "Whatever you
do, don't let Mr. I talk you into staying."
I then went about my day feeling ever so pleased with the turn the
morning had taken.
I received another call from Mr. I. around four. He and Kristen
and Coldfoot were at his house and he wanted me to come over for dinner.
Holding the phone into the kitchen so that he could hear the sizzling I
explained (in very very simple and slow English) that we were frying fish
and if he'd only called fifteen minutes earlier... He put Kristen on and
she begged me to come over. I guess between Coldfoot's near silence and
Mr. I's inability to comprehend even the easiest English, she was pulling
most of the weight. She later confided that the whole matter had rather
put Mr. I off his dinner--and lunch--and that he'd been farting like mad
all day. In the car, in the restaurant where they'd had lunch he'd been
making some effort to muffle the sound, but once he'd eaten dinner and felt
somewhat more at home (being there) he'd pulled out all the stops. While
talking over the phone to another city hall official, explaining that all
was lost, he'd become so traumatized that he completely lost control of his
sphincter muscles, letting one fart after another rip out between his big
butt and the vinyl seat cover on which he was sitting.
Later, that evening, after returning to Maebashi from teaching some
elementary age kids at a cram school in Isesaki, I received another call
from Mr. I but let the machine cover for me this time. "Mr. Coldfoot will
be leave on tomorrows's plane back to Springfield;" invitation to join him
and Coldfoot for sushi and sake. Declined.
Anyway, after hering the final confirmation that evening I
immediately began trying to contact Ms. Angie Goodson. Monday, made
contact, urged her to call the SSCA-zoku immediately. The next day, I
received e-mail from her, informing me that she had been hired. She'll be
over here in about thirty days, so the most qualified person got the job
after all.
Incidentally, not only was Coldfoot connected to C. Lump through
Japanese lessons. Guess what his old man does for a living. Give up? He
teaches at the same high school. Imagine the work-relationship those two
are going to have now. Just the embarassment of having to see each other
in the hall every day would be unbearable. And they've no doubt already
told everyone about how his son is in Japan and that she's the one who got
him over here.
What heat. The brilliance just goes on and on.
July 1998
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