Successful JET CIR Essay

Here's my successful essay from my application to the JET program:

In 2010 I was honoured with the oppourtunity to spend an academic year in Japan through the Victoria University Exchange Programme. Having studied Japanese for six years at the time but not yet actually used my language skills or experienced the Japanese culture first hand I couldn't hold back my excitement. For ten months I lived and learned in Tokyo, Japan while attending Meiji Gakuin University . I met people from not just Japan but all over the world who then became life long friends all sharing the passion for the Japanese language and culture. My year was beyond anything I could have ever imagined. So, upon learning of the JET programme I knew this was another perfect oppourtunity to share languages and cultures with all new friends and colleagues that I could not let pass.

During my year long exchange in Tokyo, Japan I went to to Meiji Gakuin University in central Tokyo to further my studies in Japanese language and culture. I completed the academic programme and improved my Japanese skills to a high standard at which I was able to acquire a part-time job while living in Japan.

After spending a year there I came back with more than just insight into Japan as a country but also an insight into countries from all over the world. While living in Tokyo I was placed in a University dormitory where exchange students from all over the world gathered; Thailand, Canada, Germany, England, Australia, Taiwan, South Korea and so many more. Being around people from all those countries enabled me to study both their languages and their cultures which, I hope, opened my mind to the rest of the world. I think this gives me an advantage into not only language but worldly knowledge.

Since setting my goal to work in Japan as a translator I have been working hard towards building the skills I will need to be successful in achieving this. Recently I have been working at Victoria University as a research assistant on a project based around immigrant workers and the use of languages in foreign offices. This study shows the importance of an open mind and adaptability in an unfamiliar situation. With my experience as a medical receptionist I am well aware of the need to adapt in unexpected circumstances. This job faces many different cases varying in severity so it is always important to be on your toes. I believe that while working as a CIR on the JET programme difficult and challenging situations are bound to arise but I have the ability to problem solve and keep calm during such encounters. Also, with this experience in hand, I think I am able to handle any high-paced workplace that may be thrown at me as well as somewhere which may require someone to pick up things quickly.

One of the most important things about going on the JET programme is, I believe, being an advocate for your own country. Being able to represent New Zealand as a CIR would be an honour and a task I think I could fulfill. While I have studied many overseas cultures and languages I have also participated in work regarding New Zealand culture and language through the Victoria University Linguistics department. Knowing what is important to New Zealanders and what makes us unique from others is a great advantage in being able to represent our country well. New Zealand is a country with many different influences but yet is united and ahead of the world over issues such as nuclear power and equality. If given the oppourtunity to share the New Zealand point of view with Japan and to spread knowledge about our small and isolated country I would be more then honoured to take it on.

In conclusion, my skills and experience are well tailored to what I believe is important in being a CIR and a representative of both the JET programme and New Zealand. My Japanese language and culture knowledge is of a high level and I am prepared both mentally and physically to work to the standard required of me by my employers. 

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As you can see, you don't have to be the best writer to get in but just giving them a reference to your character and experience is a definite must if you are going to get in. Good luck with your own essays!

Just thought you might want to know! 

Rubbish Lady - The Dictator of Japan

So as some of you may have seen on YouTube or read in my last post I am now living and working in a place called Hamamatsu City (fondly referred to from here on as Hama) in Japan. I know I should start this by saying how amazing Japan is and how much I'm loving it here (which I most definitely am) but all I can think of to write about is the Rubbish Lady.

The middle-aged, business owner Rubbish Lady who lurks outside my apartment beside the rubbish drop off area each morning. She owns the neighbourhood. Metaphorically. If she doesn't like your rubbish it doesn't get thrown out. Quite simple really.

I feel that before I go on it's important for you all to know that the Japanese rubbish and recycling system is not a simple one. Have a look at these:

Mhmm. You get it? Don't worry. I'm pretty sure even Japanese people are confused. So it's understandably not easy for a foreigner to get used to. Generally most things go into burnable and clean plastic goes into the plastics. It's rather a time consuming process though and while I try my best to separate rubbish as well as I can, it's not a simple task.

A few weeks into living here I heard of one of my neighbours getting their rubbish put back. I hadn't experienced this yet so I was feeling pretty cocky. The next day I put out two bags of rubbish with almost identical contents and when I returned home in the evening I found just one of them waiting for me at the entrance to the apartment building.

I was confused. There was no note to say what was wrong and if the city rubbish collectors don't take it they are supposed to put a sticker on it telling you that you did something wrong. The sticker was no present. The bag was full of food and with the temperatures reaching 38degrees over here I didn't want to risk taking it back to my apartment for the cockroaches to feast on. So instead I've started a new system of making it other people's problem by leaving it under the stairs at the entrance of our building. I will add, though, that there is a suspicious pile of rubbish already under the stairs coated in dust so I suspect that I am not her first victim. 

Every time I tried to put rubbish out either only one bag would be taken or no bags would be taken. I would try again using the bags under the stairs which would then, possibly having improved with age, now be acceptable for disposal.

One time I tried to put some rubbish away from the Rubbish Mafia Lady's area because I considered the idea that that wasn't the rubbish drop off place but I received an angrily written note that seems to say "THIS IS NOT THE RUBBISH SPOT". If anyone out there can read this a bit better than me I would appreciate your translation.

Another day I put out my bag in the usual spot but there was no green net to put it under (nets are used to keep the crows out of the rubbish). So I just left my bag in the usualy spot. When I got home I found my bag with a note explaining when rubbish is thrown out and that it should be placed under the net. It said that burnable rubbish (the contents of my bag) was thrown out on a Friday (it was a Friday) before 8.30am (it's always 8am when I leave for work) under the net (which wasn't present). To this day I remain confused as to the meaning of this note.

I have greeted the rubbish lady on several occasions. One of the first few weeks I was here she said "Hello" and asked me where I was from. In my half asleep state I told her I was from the apartment building and pointed to it. She laughed sharply and grimaced and said "No, what country?". Picture this said in the most condescending way imaginable. I'm so great a first impressions.

Other times I have attempted to repair this impression by calling out brightly with a greeting when I see her but she always gives me a stare down and mumbles back with the bare minimum... sometimes not even replying.

For two weeks my rubbish has been returned to me. I'm almost at the end of my wits. I have no idea how to get rid of this build up of trash. I also have no idea how the ALTs (assistant language teachers) in my apartment block are getting rid of theirs. I'm almost ready to beg them to put mine out for me in the hopes that if I don't have my finger prints on the bag it will be accepted.

My current rubbish situation not including the 3 rejected bags downstairs

 However, my fight with the Rubbish Lady will go on. I will continue to challenge her with my foreign rubbish ideals and she will continue to throw them back in my face. My dream is that one day I will come home after a long day at work and be able to walk into my apartment without the greetings of one month old rubbish on my doorstep.

Just thought you might want to know. 

[UPDATE: a kind ALT in my building has informed me of another rubbish drop off spot just up the road. Wish me luck!]

The Day I Got The Happy Juice (key-hole surgery)

So, it's been a long time since I updated you here and a lot has changed! I successfully had my surgery removing cysts and other uncomfortable stuff from my womb. I've traveled the world; 19 countries in 9 weeks. I've moved to Japan, a city by the name of Hamamatsu, to start a new job and life working for the government over here.

Some pretty big stuff.

As for the surgery - be warned this may get graphic and involve a lot of speaking about lady bits. For those of your who haven't read my previous blog or seen my previous vlogs I was diagnosed with endometriosis and PCOS after complaining to my doctor about heavy periods, blood clots and pain. I had an intrusive ultrasound to check things out where they found out I had far too many eggs - a sign of PCOS and I was sent to a specialist. The Specialist told me she suspected I had endometriosis as well as a possible thyroid condition. To double check these conditions were preset and to attempt to relieve some of the symptoms I was booked in for key-hole surgery.

The whole experience was a lot less scary then I thought it would be but also a lot more complex. I arrived super early in the morning as I was the first patient for key-hole surgery that day. My mother had come down from our home about 2.5hrs away to join me in Wellington where I lived for university and where the private hospital was that I would be getting cut open in. I needed someone to drive me around and because my apartment was up two flights of stairs my parents booked a hotel for us to stay in while I recovered for a few days.  I was determined that I wouldn't need to stay here. Oh, how naive I was.

I got dressed in my super hospital gown. Had my private parts shaved by an irritatingly bright nurse who would later turn out to be quite a rude you-know-what. And let me tell you an irritatingly bright nurse is not what you want in your downstairs area first thing in the morning. Then we waited.

A lot of waiting. I thought I would be a lot more nervous then I was but by that point I didn't really care. Usually my anxiety would be driving me crazy and I think it was a little the night before but actually waiting in the hospital wasn't too bad. I had my own room with a T.V. and there was a really pretty garden area outside my window. Thank god for insurance.

Flowers from Maxine

The anesthetist came in -  a super happy chap who got me to fill out some forms signing over my life and making sure he couldn't get sued if something were to happen. He explained how the general anesthetic worked and that he would be monitoring me the whole time. He seemed to really enjoy his job so I was pretty happy to leave my life in his hands. I guess I should mention before this that my dad is a doctor and I used to work as a medical receptionist so I'm not scared of medical things. I trust the medical professionals around me to do their jobs and they do a pretty good job 98% of the time.

Eventually the doctor in charge (the consultant that I had been seeing up until now) came in to do a little consultation to explain the procedure. They told me it would take about an hour without complications but they had no idea what they were going into so they couldn't be sure if that would be the case for me. I was still under the impression that I wasn't really suffering that much. Sure, my periods were always heavy and painful but I was pretty sure they weren't any worse then anyone else's. Didn't everyone had trouble going to the toilet during their periods due to intense pain? No Clare. Not everyone.

Anyway, eventually some nurses came by including super peppy nurse and they started wheeling me down the corridor. I cannot tell you how much fun this was for me. And I wasn't even on any drugs by then. I asked the peppy nurse if she could wheel me around all the time and she took one good look at me and said "No. You're too fat. You need to get out and walk more." It was no longer fun times in the hospital with that lady.

But she left as soon as I was dropped off in the surgery waiting room and replace by a lovely young nurse from the surgery department. I was getting a bit nervous at this point but the surgery staff were so sweet I was easily distracted. The anaesthetist came in and put the line in my hand for what he called the 'happy juice' and BOY was he right. I'm not into drugs but if I was I would want more of that good stuff. A wave of heat came over me and the euphoria kicked in. It was beautiful. From here things get a little fuzzy.

I think his next move was to start the general anesthetic except I can't remember whether I was in the operating room or the waiting room when this happened. I do remember the operating room looking like a medical T.V. show and I got lifted by some nurses from my bed to the operating table using the sheet trick and not long after I was out.

I woke up back in my hospital room and I don't remember feeling any pain at all at this point. Although I was pretty out of it. I remember smiling and joking; although that might have just been me saying normal stuff and laughing at myself... either way I was HILARIOUS.

Again this is fuzzy but I think after this they wanted me to get dressed. Except the clothes I had had waistbands (obviously) and because my stomach was so bloated after being pumped with gas for the operation they cut into my now sore middle section. I think I started to feel quite sore now. I should mention, my doctors policy was not to give out pain killers... I really which I had known this before I went in. I was allowed a few panadol (asprin) even 4-6 hours or so but nothing more. As I said before though my father is a doctor... luckily we had our own supplies.

 I was told that I had to go to the toilet before I was allowed to leave the hospital so I tried a few time but no success. I think they were starting to worry about there being a blockage but I just hated having the attention on me while I was on the toilet. I'm trying to pee! Eventually I was able to release but it happened just when the anasethetist came in. I hate public toilets at the best of times and having conversations through the bathroom door is not my idea of an ideal situation. He left pretty quickly though.

I must say that at this time while I cared about people talking to me while I was on the toilet I didn't really care at all about appearing naked in front of everyone. I was still on a bit of a high after the medications and if I needed to get up I just got out of bed in front of everyone completely naked. My mum (she's seen it before), Maxine (she's lived with me for years), and I think at one point a nurse was there too (it's her job). I make no appologies. I'd even go as far as to comment on how lucky they must have been.

My doctor came in and it was then that it occurred to me to ask how long I was actually in there for. I think it was about three hours. It had no been as smooth as they had imagined. She gave me some photos of my inside illustrating what they had removed and how they had attempted to repair me. I had this gauze like padding lining my uterus which actually freaked me out rather than consoling me. Just think of all this paper filling you. Gross. There had been a major cyst on one of my ovaries and they had to drain both ovaries because they were almost forming several more cysts and were far too full - at least that was my understanding of the situation. The lining of my uterus had been covered in little spots that look like acne which is the endometriosis so the had to strip a few of these layers off and use the gauze to stop it from sticking to itself while it healed.

Maxine brought me flowers and a magazine and we chatted for a while, I think... still fuzzy. Eventually mum went off to get some medication for me and I think Maxine went home. I, of course, instagrammed my hospital dinner which I barely touched but there was ice cream so I was happy. I forgot that I hadn't eaten anything for about 24hours but my stomach was so tender I wasn't too keen to binge.

Me in the Hospital

As a side note, my stomach was a brilliant purple and yellow from the dye they used which highly entertained me but was also a bastard to try and get off in the shower.

I wasn't really interested in staying the night at the hospital so at about 8pm we managed to get me discharged. I might add that the nurse since before my surgery had changed and the new one was absolutely lovely. She was super helpful in getting me home as they usually didn't do discharges after 8pm.

We headed out of the hospital slowly. I was super dizzy and almost collapsed at one point (in retroflex I probably shouldn't have been discharged). We got to the hotel and I just collapsed down onto my bed.

The next few days were a confusion of pain, movies, pain, dizziness and eventually sever nausea with a side of pain. Unfortunately the nausea hit on the check out day from the hotel so we made an executive decision that I needed to head back home to Wanganui for the rest of the week to recover. This is one of the worst instances of nausea I've ever experienced. I was super faint and I couldn't move an inch for fear of exploding. After the first few times I obviously had nothing left in my stomach so the constant burning of my throat for about 4 hours non-stop was not fun.

We drove to my apartment first and mum ran in to get me a few thing and to find something for me to be sick in rather then a potentially leaky plastic bag on my lap. I controlled my breathing and tried to be the best statue I could be. Even when Maxine came down to the car to see me I could do nothing but twitch the side of my face into a half grimace and keep staring forward. My bag was replaced with a bucket lined with plastic bags and I slightly moved my eyes to Maxine as a farewell before we drove the worst 2.5hours I've ever experienced to my hometown. I was a silent statue the whole time. I think I somehow managed to put some music in my ears and use the beats to control my breathing and as soon as we got home I made my way out of the car and collapsed into bed. I fell asleep almost immediately and when I woke up, thankfully, the worst was over.

I got back to Wellington that weekend and started work almost straight away. My job was mostly standing and running around on the night shift at a busy after-hours medical center so it wasn't the best job to do right after having your insides scraped out. I really should've given myself more time off but as I mentioned before I was under the impression that they would venture in there only to find that I had nothing wrong with me and I would be sent home immediately.

I'm sorry for the super long entry but I thought that some people would be interested in the follow up to the surgery. This was way back at the beginning of the year so my memory is even more fuzzy then when I was on those drugs but for anyone about to go through a similar experience my advice is not to worry yourself too much. Trust your doctors and they'll take care of you. Make sure you have people around to support you. I was, at one stage, thinking of doing this by myself but luckily my mum had time to come down and take care of me. My friends were pretty great at pep talks too.

There are a lot of women out there who suffer from similar issues and if you happen to be one of those in New Zealand who do, I would highly recommend seeing Hanifa Koya in Wellington. She is a leader in this area and deals with a lot of young women. She doesn't dumb anything down and is completely honest with you. She's also admired by the staff she works with (although she can be a bit harsh with them). They all trust her to be their doctor too which is saying something when you work so close to someone.

Anyway, just thought you might want to know.