Slave Teachers

I am reading books about ancient Rome. According to those books, ancient Roman intellectuals were bilingual. Their native language was Latin but they studied ancient Greek as part of their education. Studying a foreign language is very challenging. I am Japanese and I have spent some difficult days studying English. Greece was in the territory of ancient Rome. Some rich Roman families had Greek slaves whose job was to teach Greek to their children. It is difficult to imagine the slaves. Their job was to teach, but their status was slaves. Teaching their owners’ children was probably difficult and complicated. By the way, in present-day Japan, many teachers in public schools need to work overtime – over 100 hours per month. Most of them can’t get enough overtime pay. It occurred to me that today’s teachers might be like those Greek slaves.

 Picture by yopinco

Temple

 

 When my wife and I lived with my mother who had Alzheimer’s disease, we looked for places to visit on Sundays. The day service was closed on Sundays. Spending all day in the house with my mother made us blue, but we couldn’t visit crowded places. It could be dangerous for my mother. Then we came up with an idea. We decided to visit local temples together. We drove to temples by car and took pictures. The temples had steps, which were a good exercise for my mother. Perhaps we could accumulate virtues by visiting temples.

 While I visited many temples, I found out they have differences. Some temples looked new and luxurious. Others looked old and worn-out. I imagined that a great monk could live in a worn-out temple. Sometimes we can find a great actor in a small worn-out theater. The same thing could happen in temples.

 One of the temples gave us a kitty. She was a stray cat. The temple saved her and was looking for someone who could adopt her. We named her Ramune. Now she is a member of our family. She is a cat of dignified isolation. It was difficult to tame her. Her face is so beautiful, and she looks like she is always meditating. She might have studied Buddhism in the temple. She could be a cat of high virtue. Sometimes she pees on the sofa and chair. She could have deep reasons for doing that. A great monk and a great actor sometimes have eccentric behavior.

 Ramune, we already know you are a cat of high virtue. Please pee in the toilet for cats.

 

Taking a bath costs $4,000

 

 After my grandaunt passed away, I needed to clean up her house. She didn’t have a child. I started with the bathroom. My grandaunt intentionally broke it. She had Alzheimer’s disease. She was afraid of having an accident in the bathroom, so she made the bathtub unusable. My relatives and I couldn’t decide whether we should sell or rent out the house at that time, so I thought I should fix the bathroom. The house should at least be a place where someone could live in. I asked a repair company how much it would cost to fix the bathroom. They said it would cost $4,000.

 I fixed the bathroom. I thought I should take a bath in there. It had an old-style bath system, but it was comfortable.

 My grandaunt had many properties. I spent almost three years cleaning them up.

 After cleaning up the house, my relatives and I finally decided to rent it out. We needed to renovate it to find a tenant. I assumed the bathroom was OK. But the real estate agent and the carpenters strongly recommended for us to do a total renovation of the bathroom because bath heating systems had developed over the last few decades. Furthermore, tenants tended to make a decision on a house depending on its wet area. We took the real estate agent’s and carpenters’ advice. We completely renovated the bathroom.

 I only used the fixed old bathroom once. It cost $4,000. It could be extremely luxurious.

 I should use that in many different ways.

Picture by DIJ

Four Steps to Down Town

 

 

I live in Nagoya, one of the biggest cities in Japan. My house is far away from downtown Nagoya, almost at the city’s edge. But we have an hourly bus service that directly take us to and from the downtown area. The trip takes one hour.

My late father took my mother, who had Alzheimer’s disease, to downtown Nagoya every week with this bus service.

My father was hearing-impaired. He couldn’t learn text messaging, but I let him have a cellphone. He couldn’t hear the phone, but he could understand how to make a phone call with it. My mother also couldn’t understand how to use the cellphone. She had acute hearing though. If my father handled the cellphone, my mother could talk with me on it. My mother couldn’t remember a thing from the conversations, but she could talk to my father in a loud voice. They used the cellphone with great teamwork.

Once, when they had an accident, I could talk with the person who helped my parents. The cellphone made it easy. Even if aged people can’t use them, it is good to let them have cellphones.

We also used a GPS service that kept me informed of the cellphone’s location, but unexpectedly we never received any benefit from the service.

One night, while I was scrolling through the contents of my father’s cellphone, I found an unbelievable record in it—a pedometer recording. The pedometer showed that my father moved just 4 steps that day. He had gone downtown with my mother—the bus stop is 500 meters away from our house—and they had bought me presents. He would have walked around downtown at least. How could the cellphone count just 4 steps?

My father had difficulty walking. He didn’t use a cane, but he walked very slowly. He couldn’t raise his feet; he almost slid them along. The pedometer couldn’t count his steps because he walked very gently.

I also tried it—it is possible to move without a pedometer’s counting.

My house is located in an excellent place, just four steps away from downtown!

I have thought of a unique game—all players need to bring a pedometer and then move from the start line to the opposite wall as quickly as possible, but the steps should not be counted by the pedometer. All people, including the elderly and children could enjoy the game. It would be exciting!

Picture by Bado International

Masked Pianist

 

Once, I worked for an event organized by a cosmetics company. All the actors working for the event had to wear full-face masks—we had to hide our faces.

From the time the doors opened to the start of the performance, the director decided to play an album by Richard Clayderman, a great French pianist. There was a piano on the stage. The director had an idea and asked me, “Could you sit down in front of the piano and pretend that you are playing it?”

I can’t play a piano, but I am an actor; I could act as if I were.

There was a buffet at the venue. The cosmetics company must have been rich—the food looked delicious.

While I was pretending to play the piano, I noticed some people looking at me enthusiastically. They ignored the food and really paid attention to me. Some of them even whispered, “What a great pianist!”

They really assumed I was playing the piano. My fingers were hidden their view. In reality, I never even touched the piano.

Of course, it was a great pianist. The music was played by Richard Clayderman himself. But we were just playing his CD. The audience must have thought “This pianist on the stage can play the piano as well as Richard Clayderman, but he is playing at this small event in this local city! For some reason, he needs to hide his real face! What happened to him?” They must have imagined a tragic, genius pianist under my mask.

I couldn’t stand it. If people started to pay too much attention to me, it could disturb the event.

It was against the director’s order, but I intentionally made a mistake: I explained “I am not playing this piano.”

The people said, “What the heck!” They no longer paid attention to me and went to the buffet. As an actor, I was sad to lose the audience’s attention. But at least the buffet was real.

After the event, I reported to the director, “As we expected, it was a failure.” The director laughed and said, “I knew it.”

Actors should not deceive audiences like this.

Picture by grandfailure

My Mother and Crows

 

 I had lived with my mother who had Alzheimer’s for about fourteen years.

 Then she had another disease, which required her to be transferred to a hospital. Because of her other disease, her Alzheimer’s got worse. My wife and I decided to put her in a nursing home. Finding a good nursing home was difficult, and the procedure was complicated, but we eventually found one.

 When my mother lived with us, we were very busy, especially in the morning. My wife and I needed to help my mother in going to the toilet, getting dressed, and eating breakfast. We needed to prepare to see her off to the day service. After we put my mother in a nursing home, we could enjoy our morning time.

One day, while my wife and I were sleeping in, suddenly, our telephone rang. It was one of our neighbors.

“Your trash bags are miserable!”

 We looked out in front of our house and saw some crows broke our trash bags. They were eating our scraps. Our trash was all over the street. It had never happened before.

 This happened because we put my mother in a nursing home.

 When we lived together, we put my mother’s diapers in the trash bags. They might have smelled like excrete from a big omnivore and might be a good crow repellent. When my mother moved to a different place, our trash bags just smelled leftovers. The crows might have been overjoyed. We had covered the trash bags with a crow repellent net, but it was too old to be effective.

 When my mother had Alzheimer’s, I felt that she was just a burden on our family. I didn’t realize that she could be useful in an unexpected way.

 We only realize the value of our mothers when they are not around.

Picture by visekart

Encore

 

 

 At a classical music concert, after the performance, the audience don’t stop clapping. Then the performers show up again and perform the encore.

 In Japanese theater, especially in a mini-theater, which I took part in, we didn’t practice the encore. I know some big musical plays have to practice the encore, but we didn’t. After a performance, when the last audience stops clapping, the whole performance ends. So I have never experienced an encore, except one day.

 On that day, all actors, including me, and crew members had a good performance. We didn’t make any serious mistake. The audience were great. We felt a sense of unity.

 In small theater performances like ours, we have a practice of “seeing off.” The actors show up at the lounge and see off the audience, including our friends and family members who came to the theater to watch the show. We can talk to them directly and say “thank you.”

 On that day, I rushed to the lounge because I felt that we did a great performance. I really wanted to say “thank you” to the audience as soon as possible. The director was in the lounge. We made eye contact. We didn’t say anything, but we smiled at each other. Both of us knew tonight’s performance was great. No words were needed in a situation like this.

The director and I waited for the audience in the lounge with big smiles on our faces. This was one of the best moments in my life.

But the audience didn’t come out to the lounge. We waited for a long time. It was too long. I wondered what was happening. I opened the door to check, and I was surprised. All the audience were still clapping. All actors, except me, were on the stage. They were smiling and waving their hands to the audience.

That was an encore!

It could happen spontaneously? In a small theater performance like ours?

I tried to return to the stage, but the encore was almost finished. I was the only actor who didn’t show up for the encore. I missed the chance to enjoy the encore, which may never happen in my life again.

Wise men say only fools rush in.

Picture by mounel