Locked Out

When we finally found Me Too, I went to unlock the door and realized that in desperation she had crammed a bamboo stick into the keyhole. Of course, it had broken off and got stuck.

Great.

I did eventually manage to use the pokey end of Me First’s compass to pry it out, but it took awhile. We didn’t get into the house until the wrong side of 4:30.

Me Too was exhausted by this time, and I could feel a migraine coming on. So she skipped karate class. Me First would have skipped, too, if HRH hadn’t shown up just as things were calming down.

Of course he thought Me Too should have been forced to go to karate anyway. Of course he thought I was over reacting. Waiting on your door step for 2 freaking hours and then being locked out for another? No big deal, he says. Of course I wonder, again, how it is that I am married to such a man and living in such a country where things like this are “no big deal.”

I’d had a weird encounter earlier in the day at Costco. I got to talking to one of the people who worked there. He told me he was from Senegal, and then went into a diatribe about how screwed up Japanese society is.

“These people have everything, so much stuff. But they don’t have kids. What is life without kids?” he said to me. It was an other-side-of-the-looking glass moment. I’d grown up hearing about the poor kids in Africa who don’t have anything, and here was one of them feeling sorry for me because I only have two children.

This surreal conversation with HRH brought the other conversation fresh to my mind. Our priorities just seem to be drifting further apart. The way we experience the world around us is totally different. I’ve been around a bit more so I can understand the denial, the defensiveness he feels when I tell him that the school is wrong to leave little children wandering about like that. I want HIM to be the one who takes these concerns to the school because he will be listened to. I’ll be dismissed out of hand as an outsider with crazy ideas. I’ll get the “this is Japan” line. I can deal with that bullshit outside of my home, but I can’t have my concerns minimized and made light of inside and still hold things together.

But this post is all over the place…Happy reading, I’m sure.

Advertisements

2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. senryudojo
    Jun 21, 2014 @ 05:09:13

    I read your ≪PTA Pain (or maybe not)≫, it was wonderful.
    And I recalled ≪The PTA: a survival guide for foreign parents≫.
    Let me copy a paragraph.

    American Claudia has had ample opportunities to volunteer. “I feel that PTA here is like the Borg [an alien race with a “hive mind”] on ‘Star Trek’, ” she explained. “You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile.”
    (http://www.japantimes.co.jp/community/2013/09/23/issues/the-pta-a-survival-guide-for-foreign-parents/#.U6SMmtHlpjo)

    I wish your good luck!

    Reply

  2. Rhannie
    Apr 23, 2015 @ 14:30:53

    “I want HIM to be the one who takes these concerns to the school because he will be listened to. I’ll be dismissed out of hand as an outsider with crazy ideas. I’ll get the “this is Japan” line. I can deal with that bullshit outside of my home, but I can’t have my concerns minimized and made light of inside and still hold things together.”

    This is exactly what I’ve been feeling since my eldest (R) entered elementary school. I’ve gotten so sick of the phrase “in Japan we…” that I want to scream–especially when what they REALLY should be saying is “at this school” or “in Yokohama”. Especially frustrating is the newby teacher, who would’ve just been born when I got off the boat, doing the talking!

    R went through a year of being bullied and ostricized, while our concerns were brushed off–particularly because it was me, the gajin mama, who was talking to the teacher. Needless to say we moved out of distrct (for various resons) and R is fairing better, but I can totally relate to pretty much everything you’ve written.

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: