Questions we
really shouldn’t ask...
The atmosphere
can sometimes prove awkward when two of you are stood in the
tacked-onto-the-staffroom kitchenette waiting for the microwave to finish its
seemingly never ending business. This may be news to you, but I hate awkward
silence. It jars with me and every fibre of my being. In an attempt to combat
said awkwardness, I’ve tried on several occasions a spot of small talk, chit
chat, or even perhaps a casual confabulation. Let this blog post be the advice
I wish I’d had…
10. What did you
do this weekend? One would assume that this question is the most harmless of
questions to ask…You’d be wrong dear friends, so wrong. Without a doubt their
reply will plunge you into depths of guilt you never knew you could feel for having
spent an evening away from work, prostrate, drinking wine and eating wheels of cheese
with like-minded wine and cheese eating friends. Your colleague will have woken
up at 7am on Saturday, gone into school, taken care of their club activity,
taken them to a competition of some sort in which they will have invariably
lost (another question not to ask, I’ve never had a straight answer and
therefore have no idea if my school’s teams are either A: the best in the world
or B: totally and utterly shit) Then stayed at school finishing work until 8pm,
gone home, ate, slept, and went into repeat for what would usually be a normal
person’s relaxed Sunday.
9. Are you
married? DO NOT ASK THIS. DO NOT ASK THIS QUESTION. You’d think that after the
first time I was guffawed at for asking this, I’d remember and put it in the
section of my brain which also files: food not to eat, people I don’t want to
talk to, and times when it’s really not appropriate to fart. However, I didn’t
do that, and have therefore put my foot in it more times than I’ve put my foot
in a sock; and that’s a lot. My most recent was during a
reggaeflamencosalsacharlestonhiphopaerobics open house dance lesson with my
petroleum black dyed hair, 60 year old, male teacher from school. During the 5
second gap between the heart raising flamboyant flamenco, and the mind boggling
Hiphop tracks (needless to say my dance skills were not akin to a duck to
water) I ventured to ask whether or not his wife ever likes to come along to
these classes. It was as if I’d either cut his ears off with the lid of my
water bottle, or I’d knee-jerked his crotch mid-chasse as the look on his face
resembled numb terror with a hint of ignorance. No answer was given, and no
answer will ever be given.
8. Where have you
been abroad? Another guilt-trigger this one. I’d like to refer you back to
point 10, for a second, where you will notice that the Japanese work ethic is
beyond admirable. This invariably means that most people leave themselves
little, if any, holiday days to go gadding about and have fun. If they do treat
themselves to a little respite, they’ll stay within the borders and restrict it
to a long weekend. Thank you very much. Fly to another country? Who do you
think you are? The Emperor?! Yes.
7. How are you? ‘I’m fine thank you, and you?’ The first
time I heard that response, as a Brit especially, I thought A: oh, do you mean ‘fine’, as in you’re not really ‘fine’, you’re actually feeling pretty
shoddy? Then very swiftly B: obviously you can’t mean A because you’re not British,
and therefore this response end up sounding very smooth and quite fluent. After
the 187th time of hearing the EXACT SAME response, my level of
impressed-ness had grown dangerously thin. To the point where I have started
barking at my students when they say that they are simply ‘fine.’ My students
are allowed to say anything else, ‘happy,
sad, hungry, cold, sleepy, BORED,’ even. JUST DON’T SAY THAT YOU ARE ‘FINE.’ NO ONE IS EVER JUST ‘FINE.’*
6. What is your
name? Seems to induce temporary paralysis in my students. After calming myself
down from their inevitable ‘How are you?’ response, the natural progression in
most conversations is to find out the other’s name. Surely? SURELY learning to
say your name is something one does pretty much straight away. It isn’t
confined to your own language. Admittedly when I was in primary school I was
spelling Rebecca, ‘Redecca’, but I
just put that down to those sneaky ‘d’s and b’s.’ I could say my name perfectly. Apparently that’s not a priority skill to
knuckle down over here…
5. What time do
you start/leave work? Aimed at my teachers, this is yet another question that
makes me feel like a shadow of a colleague/human being. Much like their
weekends, teachers come into work at the crack of dawn to crack the whip at their
club activity students, and then leave at around 8/9pm after working a full day
of lessons, and cracking that oh so cherished whip once more on those poor,
incredibly talented/deluded students. Repeat: Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday,
Friday. Cue: Weekend doom. I, on the other hand, barely get in for 8:30 (when
I’m contractually supposed to start) and leave at 16:15:01 (my work day
finishes at 16:15)
4. What time do
you wake up? Upon discovering that most teachers get into school for around
7:30 (when I wake up) I go on to ask what time they have to remove themselves
from that lovely, warm, futon-based sleep cocoon that I find nigh-on impossible
to drag myself out of 5 days a week. What shocked me here were the women’s
responses. In a society where the role of the woman is achingly traditional,
I’ve discovered that, if they have a family, they will wake up at 5:00 in time
to cook breakfast and lunch for EVERYONE. When I say cook, I mean actual
utensil using cooking. Rice, fish, veggies, miso soup omelette, and all that
jazz. I manage muesli and some fruit. Motherhood does not bode well for me it
seems…
3. Do you like
cooking? This one’s for the men. Well, married men, or men who live with their
parents still (yes a 60 year old man still living with his mother is not seen
as weird), or men at university living at home, actually I should end this list
with; all Japanese men. A sweeping generalisation, I know, I’m sorry, but if it
weren’t true I wouldn’t say it. Their answer? ‘I don’t cook, my wife/girlfriend/mother (delete where applicable) does.’ Inside I’m screaming, outside
I’m the image of demure politeness. Sometimes I just don’t know how I do it.
Must be the drama degree.
I feel like this
has all been quite negative, so let’s address a blaring omission from this
faultless blog, what questions should
we ask?
2. Can you tell
me how to get to (insert any location,
ANYWHERE)? Directions. Ask anyone, they will be able to tell you, hell,
they will probably take you right to the door. They are that good.
1. Do you know
where/how/when I could see/buy/travel to/fill in/try (ANYTHING)? In passing I casually once asked a fellow teacher if
they knew any nice restaurants they could recommend in a local town. Initial
response: oh, no I’m sorry I’m not too familiar with that area. 10 minutes
later: I have what can only be described as a brochure of print outs about
every single restaurant in the area.
Snow Pikachu knows what the deal is...
* Things that are
allowed to be fine: silk, art, days, lines, champagne, specimens and dust.
