Studying Public Transport
I'm a University student again! There are two Universities in Fukui: Fukui University (amazing how they come up with these names) and there's a technology college that I can't pronounce let alone spell. Anyway the technology college is right next to my apartment. The center tower is how I found my way home one night. For more on my second mishap with the bus system, see below.
So believing the campus I passed every morning on my way to work was Fukui University, I found myself wondering if I should venture in and see if they had a drawing class that I could audit or something. I asked around a bit, but none of the other NOVA teachers seemed to be interested in the artistic pursuits of the students in Fukui. It was Beks, however who told me I was mistaken and that Fukui University was the one on the edge of town. She was also fairly certain that they wouldn't have a drawing class. I was working on building the courage to visit possibly both colleges, hoping stumbling into the right building or the right person, and using my well developed gesturing skills to get the info I wanted. It was when I had a lesson with a friendly and talkative high level university student named Shino that I found the opportunity to ask about signing up for classes. She informed me that there were drawing classes at Fukui University as well as, usually, at least one person in the offices that spoke English. So one day, I got directions and rode my bike to the campus where I wondered for a bit trying to follow signs to the admissions office when by luck a student pounced on me. It took me a minute to recognize that it was Shino. She had to practically knock me down because I had my MP3 player on and I'm apparently a fast walker in Japan. She guided me back the way I came and into a building I had passes at least twice. We talked to a teacher from the art department who suggested that we talked to someone in the education building about classes available to me. In the education office they recommended we talk to Mr. Minato of the art department. I felt the old familiar sting of getting the runaround that happened soon often in Murray. Unfortunately, it was spring break for them and teachers wouldn't return until the beginning of next month. So Shino and I decided to grab lunch in the cafeteria where we discuss schools in the US compared to Japan and Spiderman 3.
The next month, I got a message from her saying that she stopped by Minato's office and ask about the class for me. She said, "His English is pretty good," and I could stop by to talk to him. So I went by his office where there was a small sticky note on his door stating that he would be in his office later that day, I could go the education office to sign up for the class, or call him at the number written below. I was taken aback. Never had I ever had possession of one of my teacher's numbers before. How should I call and when is an appropriate time? What if he's in class when his cell goes off disrupting his lesson because I didn't know proper Japanese phone etiquette? All I know is to say, "Mushy, mushy," when answering, but that always makes me think a kids disgusted by kissing adults or making hamburger patties. I don't know why I was on this little tangent, because I was already heading to the education office.
Once again I was dumbfounded when I entered, because I was only about five feet in the door when one of the many office workers looked up, gave me a quizzical look, and asked "Rose?" Revolted children and meat patties were quickly shoved aside by Holy Crap. She knows my name. "Yes?" I asked suspiciously as she pulled another worker to the front. This woman's expression of curiosity as to why she was being manhandle to confront a student was soon replaced with recognition, "Oh, Rose, Mr. Minato left a message." It was then I decided that they must not have many exchange students. She pulled out a form and before I knew it, I had filled it out under her directions, been given instructions to have Minato sign it and a schedule, and just had my picture taken for my student pass. I've never seen a school administration work so efficiently or looked so surprised in a photo, which is why I think she took a second one.
It's late, so I think I'll come back later to tell the story of the Bus Mishap.
Sleepily Narrating,
ZZZZZZZZZ
So believing the campus I passed every morning on my way to work was Fukui University, I found myself wondering if I should venture in and see if they had a drawing class that I could audit or something. I asked around a bit, but none of the other NOVA teachers seemed to be interested in the artistic pursuits of the students in Fukui. It was Beks, however who told me I was mistaken and that Fukui University was the one on the edge of town. She was also fairly certain that they wouldn't have a drawing class. I was working on building the courage to visit possibly both colleges, hoping stumbling into the right building or the right person, and using my well developed gesturing skills to get the info I wanted. It was when I had a lesson with a friendly and talkative high level university student named Shino that I found the opportunity to ask about signing up for classes. She informed me that there were drawing classes at Fukui University as well as, usually, at least one person in the offices that spoke English. So one day, I got directions and rode my bike to the campus where I wondered for a bit trying to follow signs to the admissions office when by luck a student pounced on me. It took me a minute to recognize that it was Shino. She had to practically knock me down because I had my MP3 player on and I'm apparently a fast walker in Japan. She guided me back the way I came and into a building I had passes at least twice. We talked to a teacher from the art department who suggested that we talked to someone in the education building about classes available to me. In the education office they recommended we talk to Mr. Minato of the art department. I felt the old familiar sting of getting the runaround that happened soon often in Murray. Unfortunately, it was spring break for them and teachers wouldn't return until the beginning of next month. So Shino and I decided to grab lunch in the cafeteria where we discuss schools in the US compared to Japan and Spiderman 3.
The next month, I got a message from her saying that she stopped by Minato's office and ask about the class for me. She said, "His English is pretty good," and I could stop by to talk to him. So I went by his office where there was a small sticky note on his door stating that he would be in his office later that day, I could go the education office to sign up for the class, or call him at the number written below. I was taken aback. Never had I ever had possession of one of my teacher's numbers before. How should I call and when is an appropriate time? What if he's in class when his cell goes off disrupting his lesson because I didn't know proper Japanese phone etiquette? All I know is to say, "Mushy, mushy," when answering, but that always makes me think a kids disgusted by kissing adults or making hamburger patties. I don't know why I was on this little tangent, because I was already heading to the education office.
Once again I was dumbfounded when I entered, because I was only about five feet in the door when one of the many office workers looked up, gave me a quizzical look, and asked "Rose?" Revolted children and meat patties were quickly shoved aside by Holy Crap. She knows my name. "Yes?" I asked suspiciously as she pulled another worker to the front. This woman's expression of curiosity as to why she was being manhandle to confront a student was soon replaced with recognition, "Oh, Rose, Mr. Minato left a message." It was then I decided that they must not have many exchange students. She pulled out a form and before I knew it, I had filled it out under her directions, been given instructions to have Minato sign it and a schedule, and just had my picture taken for my student pass. I've never seen a school administration work so efficiently or looked so surprised in a photo, which is why I think she took a second one.
It's late, so I think I'll come back later to tell the story of the Bus Mishap.
Sleepily Narrating,
ZZZZZZZZZ