Beauty You'll Never Know

I really need to tell you all about the Desk Incident, but it will have to wait for another day, or at least another blog.

Today I spent $35 and a day of vacation--and got a Japanese driver's license!!!
Last time I took the test (see my last post), I drove well but not flawlessly. This time, to the contrary, was a heart-stoppingly perfect performance. I was whipping that car around those corners at 9.8 km/h like you've never seen before! One of the "reasons" I failed last time was because the instructor didn't like my positioning in the lanes--just a little too far toward center on those right turns. This time, I was perfect. Not too close to the line, not too far, just the right trajectory before turning (after ample signaling of course), and boom!--when I hit that new road off the turn, I'm locked into perfect positioning from the get-go--like I were sitting on a German-built track. I didn't know it before today, but when you find that perfect interval-- the "ribbon of heaven," let's call it--on that unrealistic, totally fabricated Japanese course, there is a feeling of euhporia and exhilaration that can't be found anywhere else on this planet. It came upon me all of a sudden, but when I hit that interval, a noise beyond joy nearly burst forth from my lips--wooohoooggggzzzztfthj!!! I think the person in the backseat may have even fainted. On my grade sheet, the instructor's well-formed Kanji turned into a child's giddy, meaningless scribble. I feel completely confident that if Aristotle could've seen how well-positioned I was in those lanes, how perfectly balanced, he would've shouted out involuntarily--"I've seen beauty, alas! And it resides in those intervals!!!!!"--and then fallen over untimely dead (after having been untimely alive).

Yes, I'm joking. I drove fine, but it still wasn't good enough to charge an entrance fee. I was honestly a little afraid I would fail--and that with the light of my eyes crushed by the weight of the injustice, I would pulverize the instructor before coming back to my senses. But he was gracious today. And God was gracious too. I prayed for skill and good favor--and He gave it. Praise God! It really did feel good to get that license.

I also met some very interesting people, including two Catholic priests, one Japanese and one American, and a crazy Brazilian who used to drive without a license--until he got caught. I had lunch with the Brazilian. We talked about how Americans are the preferred (and often honored) minority in Japan, while other foreigners like Brazilians are discriminated against. He said life in Japan is very difficult for him for that very reason and also because it is so opposite from life in Brazil, and that his sole reason for staying longer was money. He also told me he doesn't like Japanese women because he can't figure out what's going on in their heads, and that he doesn't eat the pre-packaged meals from convenience stores, and that he likes most genres of music. He told me a lot of things. What do you expect from a Brazilian?

And that was my day.

Nisshukan mae no aida ni nani o okorimashita

I really should check it, but I think my title says, at least somewhat successfully, in Japanese, "What's happened during the past two weeks." I would love to tell you everything, but it would just take too long. As most of my readership already has seriously trouble making it through an entire journal entry, I will just have to be as laconic as I can.

Two weeks ago, I took my Japanese driving test. The driving course is ridiculously elaborate, the standards are draconian, and the process is costly and excruciating. And it's all pretty subjective anyway. And yet somehow I still managed to fail--go figure. Honestly, I didn't make any serious mistakes, didn't break any of their 2487 precious rules. I think I failed primarily just because the guy testing me wanted me to. He was an old Japanese man, rather grumpy, probably a hardened adherent to the old Japanese notion that hard work merely for hard work's sake is a good think. Thus in his mind (and of course I'm just guessing) it's good for people to fail their driving test and have to take another day of vacation and pay another $25 just for a chance to fail again--it builds character! And keeps his paycheck coming. At first, I was pretty put out, since I felt wronged, but then I realized two things. First of all, what do you expect? I live in a fallen world, a world that needs grace and light--do I honestly expect that in every single situation, every single combination of events, I will always walk away feeling as if I were treated perfectly just. And would I even want to live in such a world, blackguard that I occasionally am?--I want grace too! The second thing involved the other foreigners who took the test. We spent the better part of a day together, so we had a good opportunity for interaction. Among the people I met were an Indian couple with a small child, a Philippino couple, a Pakistani man, a Chinese man, and several Brazilians. As far as Japanese society is concerned, I, compared to everyone else in that group, am a prince. And they treat us that way. I get paid good money and receive good benefits from the Japanese simply to grace their schools with my presence, put in a little bit of university-trained thinking, and speak my native tongue. The other people there all have to work their tails off just to get by in Japan (except maybe the Indian couple because they had Phd's, but I'm pretty sure they had to work their tails off at least to get those!). If I walk into a store and don't know a lick of Japanese--Hey, no problem, he's white, and guess what?--he's American. "We'd love to help you, sir. Come right this way. Here's some green tea as you wait." If they walk into a store and can't speak really, really good Japanese, being Asian, they may get griped out. The Philippino couple was so desperate to get the husband a license, the wife nearly begged me to ride with him in the car so that I could translate for him (although I speak almost no Japanese myself). She was physically shaking from nervousness as her husband drove around the course. After he pulled the car in, his instructor had a lengthy conversation with him, explaining why he'd failed. The gist of it? The instructor didn't like his placement within the lane. In Japan you have basically a meter differential between the sides of the car and the stripes, and within that small differential--he never went outside of the lane--the guy just didn't quite have the right spacing, didn't quite have the "right stuff," to earn himself a Japanese driver's license. Too bad. Try again in a month, and be sure to bring lots of cash.

So after thinking about it, I decided that of all the unjust failings that went on that day (and we pretty much all failed), of all the small injustices, mine has to sting the least. If I am offended, let it be on account of those less fortunate than me.

But if I fail again, I may deck that grouchy old man.

Well, I'll have to tell my other stories on a later entry. That took entirely too long!

The Japanese Shuffle

This (paraphrased) verse is for all of you wonderful Mito City AETs who on occasion feel stressed out by the speed with which your colleagues traverse the Teachers' Room:

"It is not good for a person to be empty-headed, and he who hurries his footsteps commits wrong." Proverbs 19:2

Let's keep it real out there, people. Peace out.