My Gulag Part II: The Iron Sausage

Guest Post by Net Pariah

ONE MONTH LATER. The preceding morning in fact I had lost my mind, after two months of being systematically terrorized by my new host institution. I work in four different places, one supervisor sending me one place, another not getting the message, despite my specifically asking him/her to be notified, and then the Big Cheese (Riji-cho) gets wind of it. The details are superfluous. After finishing work at the yochien (kindergarten) at 3:00 I walked across the street to the High School to meet with the Japanese teacher I work with, rap with some students, and basically escape the horrible atmosphere where there's nothing to do but cut little strips of colored ribbon and glue them into linked chains. FUCK! Some mole tipped off Riji-Cho who called, in turn, No-gnads. Never mind that neither he nor anybody else knew that I was absolutely not to leave the compound. He had expected me to return to the college that day. But I had declined on account of it already being late in the day and because I had not had time to meet with the teacher at the High School the preceding week (she had rushed off to a meeting after our class.) The last two months have left me a shattered mess with chronic headaches made even worse by stress and undiminished by neither Tylenol nor alcohol consumption, both of which I tried in excess as a remedy. I've lost more than several nights of sleep, through paranoia, or lately through plotting revenge or wholesale slaughter.

Editorial Note: The headaches came on subtly at first, seeming like a prolonged hangover, but I but I became gradually aware that something was seriously wrong with me or suspecting it anyway. I have never had headaches before, except the usual morning after. Slowly I came to the realization though that the growing symptom had come to be present more often than not--in other words I was having persistent headaches over half my waking hours, then 3/4 of the time then almost constantly. Having the tendency to see everything in spiritual or psychological terms I kept trying to reason the headaches away or "wa" them away, but to no avail. I will pick up this thread a little later on.

It has not been a particularly good period, certainly the worst of my five years. I could not even bring myself to visit letsjapan.org because almost the stories either made me fear even worse things coming or none of the writers seemed to be getting reamed as hard as I. Upon being confronted by my super, I actually told him, however ill-advisedly, yet in my usual subdued tone, listen, I AM TIRED OF THIS SHIT! I want a meeting with Riji-cho, and I want it soon as in early next week." He said, simply, "No." "No?" I replied. "No? What do you mean, "No'?" "I mean she will not listen to you."

Later when he suggested I make up to her by buying her a gift for her upcoming birthday, I said "How about some chocolate laxatives?" I'm thinking about having ones from America sent over so she can't read the label. And then there's the yochien. ALL FRICKIN' DAY IN ONE ROOM WITH 40 SCREAMING KIDS. I got students who piss themselves every day; students who scream for their mother without cessation. I'm real not happy there. Come, I'll show ya something innarestin'. Come watch'em bleat and cackle, red-gummed and ruddy cheeked. Watch'em flop on the floor in soiled garments booger-stained T-shirts. But I stray from the main point. Instead of being where I ought to be, at the college helping MY students, who badly need it because many are not doing well and some are definitely going to fail my class, not completely so much because of their own shortcomings but because the support (that's me) is not there. Later. Now if you'll excuse me I gotta get back to my gay existentialist French prison novel.

Life went on. Work continued. It was not all bad. The college classes were tolerable&emdash;working with thirty 19 and 20 years olds charming young ladies each lesson is not always a bad thing. And the high school classes (at the worst school in F______) against all expectations were easy enough to daydream through as long as you cared as little as the students about their learning something. Much more interesting just speaking in Japanese (English? Forget it with these kids, they're too cool for school) about why this girl shaved off her eyebrows or this guy has a huge nasty scab running all the way from his wrist to his elbow. Or just stand back and count how many of the students are playing with their mobile phones, portable MD stereos or looking into 8X11 mirrors doing their eyelashes and make-up. A high point was when I discussed with one often absent and otherwise sleeping student whose aspiration it is to become a bartender (which is cool) the fine points of mixing a martini. The pre-school situation has become bad.

I subsist mainly by chewing grass and roots I find growing behind the gym. I have dealt with it by standing in a corner and interacting as little as possible until it's English Time at 2:00 and then as little as possible after English Time, as if to say, "Yes, you can stick me out here in the Disney Dimension, but I'm still only going to have anything to do with these kiddies from 2:00 to 2:50. I do, of course end up playing with them. Legos and puzzles and drawing pictures. I know some of their names and I know their personalities. I know which kid is going to wait until I'm not looking to punch me in the mouth and call me a dirty foreigner. I know whose good at English and I know who doesn't like my rubber spiders and who loves to try to grab the plastic grasshoppers (or my crotch which is a common problem over here). Yeah, I've got a big bag of teaching materials for 2:00 to 2:50, plastic fruits, vegetables, insects cards with animals, cards with pictures illustrating verb phrases like fly a kite, eat dinner, play the piano, sing a song. 27 phrases I'm teaching them in fact. And they're learning them. And the kids love the Net Pariah. That's the most horrible thing of all.

Just several days ago, walking out of the high school, I heard a little voice calling my name, "P______-sensei!" I turn around and see little Chiharu running up the sidewalk with her mother close behind. Chiharu wraps her tiny arms around my knees. I don't know what else to do. I've got to move fast or miss the next train and therefore be late to my evening class at my own house where I'm teaching two really bright kids (5th and 6th graders.) Bend over and give the kid a squeeze saying her name (I think I got it right), hear the mother thanking me as I point I my watch beating a hasty retreat saying "Train, train" and thinking, "Net Pariah, how could you possibly hate working at the kindergarten?" Answer: because it goes on every week for 8 1/2 HOURS, which is four times longer than your see any of your college students, who are SUPPOSED to be your main responsibility.] So up your cast!

Yeah I know they're cute, that is certainly true, but I don't like cute things. Cute makes me cringe. They've got me out there in yard with 'em doing handicapped calisthenics to the soundtrack to Dumbo, Pinocchio and Bed knobs and Broomsticks. "Yeah, I'm a show you where you can stick your Bed knobs and broomsticks, because 'there are no strings on me,' BEE-OTCH!" As the other teachers go through their grotesque exercise routines I stand motionless contemplating the peak of nearby Mt. A______. Give me the mi-nikui (ugly) tongue-pierced misfits at the high school and give them to me NOW! But as you know I'm assigned to be there from 8:50 to 5:15 and that is a stretch in the pokey, a long time to be in a room of toddlers shrieking at the top of their lungs, pissing themselves, serving them lunch, helping them in and out of their jackets, taking them to the toilets. Not to mention the fact that the teachers don't even want me there;mdash;I actually feel sorry for them that they have to be around me.

Last week, the poor bitch I have worked for the last four weeks asks the Head Teacher who I'm working with this week. Overheard across the room-she thinks I can't understand or doesn't care: "Kyo, P______-sensei wa doko ni." Head says "Koko" (here). Mata! Nande Maishu. . . ("Again!?! Why do I have to work with him every week?" Leaving me at the back of the room snickering under my breath, "I got you NOW, bitch."

The kindergarten has become a laboratory experiment for me to find out just how much of a bastard I can be before I am assassinated; and an object lesson in just how wrong things can go when you try to put a square orange in a round apple. Too late to turn back now--I took an oath! Amazingly, frustratingly, they do not report my outrageous behavior to the college. Frustrating, because I want them to, seeing that as one way to open a line of dialog on this matter. Clearly, folks, the Net Pariah just ain't socially equipped for this kind of shit and anybody who knows me knows that. If I could just come teach my class and leave, go back to the high school and teach another class I could handle it. I did in fact lose my shit there one morning when one English teacher, the high school teacher from across the street telephoned over requesting that I come over in the afternoon (after the kiddies had gone home) to help a student for his upcoming college entrance exam. Ms. Onnaya, the head teacher spoke to her, then called my supervisor No-gnads who summarily said that I was ABSOLUTELY not to leave the building for ANY reason. What am I a teacher or an ornament?

Another afternoon at the college, on the way out I stopped into my room to grab my pack and congenially say goodbye to No-gnads. He turned around, looked up at the clock and started lecturing me on leaving early before the chime. What time was it? 5:14 and about 20 seconds and it's a two minute walk down to the main office. I am not making this shit up. These people are real and their insane behavior passes for normality. Well if you've got this far thanx and here comes the Iron Sausage.

The Iron Saussage

So about a-month-and-a-half later, that being three weeks before summer break starts, I asked my Supervisor (if he may be called that) how to go about using nenkyu (paid leave). I explained that I needed to leave about an hour early the coming Friday. In any other institution this is a simple and, well, institutionalized system. Teachers are allotted a certain number of paid days leave which they normally use in chunks of three or four days, for example during the summer, but in the case that they need to be away from school, they are obliged, yet able, to dip into their vacation days to take care of their business. Most teachers will even use their nenkyu if they are too sick to come to school, even though they have byokyu (sick leave), but at least they HAVE nenkyu.

During my previous five years I have always had 21 days of nenkyu. The purpose of my leaving early that Friday was to be able to make the train to O____ City where I had arranged to meet, for the second time, with a 50-something prof from Arizona with pull who is interested in getting me on in his department. (If I didn't leave early I couldn't reach the college until 7:30 and I didn't want to make this guy wait around for me to show up at 7:30 huffing and puffing and soaked in a sweaty suit.) No-gnads told me that that was all figured into my summer vacation, but actually that didn't really answer my question since what I really wanted to know was how many days I could be away from work for such top secret assignments such as job interviews to get the hell out of this madhouse. But it brought up the question of summer leave anyway.

As for getting days off I was told to my dismay, that I had NO days off and that in order to miss work I'd have to fill out a form telling exactly how many hours I'd be absent, from what time to what time that would be, and of course the nature of the problem that necessitated my leaving, and then I'd have to present it to Ass-Head (Ass-head), who makes everybody miserable at the college. And saying that I'm going to an interview, is totally out of the question, of course. I'd have to make up a good story in order escape this place. I told him that I expected that I'd sooner or later have to use one of those forms. He said, "You can't do that. Because you'll make a big problem for me. Whatever it is, can't you do it this summer?"

"No, I'm afraid not. And anyway, what do other people do when they have problems that don't occur in summer. You know people have lives 365 days a year. And they have different kinds of problems, some of which can't always be solved in the month of August"

"But your contract says . . ." He started to reach into THE DRAWER again.
"YEAH, I KNOW what the contract says. You're one who wrote it. So why did you write it without any explanation of nenkyu and without any way for me to take care of urgent business?" And there's a stupid question, in retrospect.

I was so stupefied by this awful news that I completely forgot to pursue the summer break end of the matter. I insisted on leaving early however and No-gnads came back later with a form he'd snuck out of the office without Ass-Head knowing, saying something to effect of "Well, here it is, but I'm warning you that if you use this all hell is going to break out." I was more than ready to use the form, on principle. "And you'll have to tell the reason for your leaving," he added, insinuating that I was trying to run off to Disney Land or the Turkish Baths.

"The reason is personal and that's all I'm going to write: 'personal,'" and he raises his eyebrows as if to say, "Man, you're really asking for it!" I turned back to my desk to fill out the form, writing "personal" in the appropriate space where three lines of space were provided, and then walked down to the office with every intention of submitting the form. On the way down, however, it occurred to me that I ought to call the Prof. in O____ to confirm he could still meet me at the agreed time. As it happened, he told me that it was better for him if I showed up at 8:00 as he was working late preparing exams. So, I did not have to turn in that form after all. Relieved and disappointed, but mainly a little better informed, privy to the fact that I was even more of a prisoner at this joint than I'd guessed.

The following Tuesday, while No-gnads and I were sitting in our small office chatting (because despite all I've suffered on account of this bumbling fool, he is only just that and prefer to just try to get along and I just keep hoping that the EVIL will leave me alone and go find someone else to play with for a while) , when he turns from his desk and says:

"Oh, by the way, I met with Riji-cho yesterday, and I asked her about your summer vacation."
"A cautious and tentative, ". . . Yeah?"
"And she said to me that your vacation is to be the same as D_______'s." (D_______ is the woman who teaches at the yochien the other four days a week.)
"So, what is her vacation?"
"I don't know. You should talk to her and ask her about that yourself."
"Sure, and since you're here, I'll do that right now."
So I got on the phone and got connected to the yochien. D________ was called in from the playground.
"Hey, what's up?"
"Well, I'm here in the office with No-gnads, and he says that Riji-cho told him yesterday that you and I have the same vacation. But nobody seems to know exactly what that is. So could you brighten my day by telling me something good?"
"Sure, just let me make sure I got it right. I've got it written down here in the desk, hold on." Some rummaging sounds and a drawer closing. "Sorry, for the wait I've got it. Yeah, our vacations are from the 24th of this month (July) to the 1st of September."
It took a moment for that to sink in. It was a little hard to believe. "And that's paid, right?"
"That's right, when you get back from wherever, you'll get two paychecks. That's the way it's been the last two years and nobody said anything to me about any changes so . . . "
"Well then . . . wow. Alright, D________, thanks a lot. I'll let you get back to the kids. Thanks."
I turned to No-gnads and relayed the information to him. I was genuinely happy for the first time since I'd started working there. "This is the best thing that's happened since I came here, I told him. In fact, it's the ONLY good thing that's happened." He smiled, happy to see me happy, it seemed. "Where will you go?"
"I don't know. I really haven't had time to think about it. But I'm expecting a visit from a professor friend (J.T.J.) I'll probably show him around F______ and then take him up to Niigata. Maybe even Sado Gashima." My mind was running, imagining the beach of Sado where I would eat oysters, drink sake and swim in the Nihon Kai naked at 2:00 a.m. without a care in the world (excepts sharks), my thoughts far from imprisonment. A day or two later he called back to let me know that he'd bought a ticket to arrive on the 19th of August.

Several mornings later No-gnads was in the break room smoking a cigarette when I came in for my morning cup of coffee. After some small talk he mentioned in an off-hand way that Riji-cho would be coming in later and that during his meeting with her, he would confirm my vacation schedule with her. I stopped pouring about mid cup and set the pot down.

"What do you mean, confirm my vacation schedule? You told me that she was the one that decided my vacation schedule two weeks ago. So why does she have to confirm her own decision?"
"Well, it's uh, just a formality."
"And what will she say?"
"Oh don't worry about that. She will agree."
"I still don't understand. What do mean 'She'll agree?' How can she not agree with herself?"

After stammering for a moment or two, he simply reassured me in slightly different language that this was just the school's custom. I left it at that and dutifully practiced lines with the young lady who was in the promotional video with me. Naturally it took all day, but I didn't mind as from that afternoon, I knew I'd be a free spirit for a whole month. I hadn't really expected anything more than four or five days (if that) so hadn't really been thinking about vacation at all, figuring that I'd just tough it out in the computer room and the library. But now getting our of this place for a month was all I could think of. Later in our small office, I asked him again, about that meeting today, "Riji-cho's not going to try to pull a fast one on me is she?"

"No, there will be no problem. As you said, it was Riji-cho's will from two weeks before when she said to me about your summer holiday." I carried on my work in the computer (as I was just finishing the last draft of this stupid school brochure that no one in Canada is going to give a crap about, and continued working on that last page until about 4:50 p.m.) when No-gnads walked into the computer room, which in itself was nothing short of a red-letter event since I have never seen him in there. He sat down at a nearby console.

"Oh, Mr. P______. I'm very sorry, but I have very bad news for you."
I had been so caught up in translating that I'd completely forgotten about his meeting with Riji-cho, which I'd been led to believe was a done-deal anyway. So I was a little more than upset when I heard No-gnads speaking through what seemed like liquid air, blood coursing past my eardrums.
"I'm very sorry, but Riji-cho did not agree with your vacation plan." I was stunned. I felt the blood literally draining out of my head. "What do you mean, MY plan? This was her plan. And now she's just going to pull the tatami mat out from underneath me 2 days before my vacation starts?

SILENCE.

"So how much vacation DO I have then?"
"Well, I was very surprised by her answer. Because she said that as a first year part-time teacher that you have NO vacation."
My body was numbing. My arms felt like dismembered limbs wrapped in wet newspaper. I managed to say, "But you said-"
"I know, I know, but her decision is unchangeable."
"What do you mean, unchangeable? She just did change it. So she can change it back again!"
"Well, you have no plan to return home for the summer do you?"
"No, but I do have a guest, a very important guest coming to visit me, and anyway that's not the point. Riji-cho herself said that I had the same vacation as D________. She told you that two weeks ago!"
"I am sorry. It' partially my fault. I must have misunderstood her."

"MISUNDERSTOOD HER? How could you MISUNDERSTAND something that much? How could you misunderstand Riji-cho saying that I have NO vacation as her saying that my vacation is the same as D________'s? Can you explain that to me?" But all he could manage to do was keep apologizing. When I asked for an explanation, all I got were apologies and to tell you the truth, I was in such a state of shock, all I could was try to process this new data.

Now let me get one thing straight before I proceed. Net Pariah don't give a %$#& about vacations. Generally, he can be quite happy at the office or in the school as long as he has (a) something to do and (b) a non-hostile environment to do it in . What the Net Pariah don't like is when m&#%f@*&s be &%$#'n with his head at every turn, clearly ignoring the points of the contract (as well as THE LAW) that they find inconvenient and then pulling out the ol' contract when they find it to their advantage.

I walked up to the station in daze, telling myself that this was it, that they had pushed me too far, that I didn't care if they fired me or didn't renew my contract that I absolutely did not care, that I absolutely would not go to work on the 24th. Waiting for the train, I paced up and down the platform, feeling crazier than I have felt in a long time. At the same time a peaceful sensation something akin to the beginning of an acid trip began sweeping over me or what a postal worker must feel before he takes out the office. By the time the train arrived, I knew that I was full of shit; that despite everything, that I would be spending my summer break, or most of it, at the Tandai. I had rent to pay and a wife and cat to take care of.