I'm sorry, did that sound like a question?
I think I put the fear of God into my supervisor today.
Here's what happened:
This week I'm at my Minmaya schools (for the last time, WOOT!), so I get to sleep in and take the 11am bus to work. Usually, that's the start of a good day. However, when I receive a text on such days at 8:30am from my supervisor, I'm definitely still in bed and not quite ready to take on the world. After a considerably restless night (during which I somehow managed to pull a muscle in my left shoulder), I rolled over and blinked at the screen of my cell.
Let's just say 8:30am is NOT the time to send Mel a long text in Japanese bearing only bad news.
Here's a recap/update on the issue of my return plane ticket:
The fact:
- JET requires all contracting organizations to pay for the return flight of their JETs when they come to the end of their contract.
- Round-trip airfare costs less than one-way airfare. By a lot. Period.
Mel's Reasoning:
- A round trip ticket makes sense because: a) I'm coming back to Japan anyway, b) it's clearly cheaper, and c) the higher-ups at the prefectural Board of Ed gave the green light for it.
- A one-way ticket MAKES NO SENSE because it would use money that my poor-ass town could definitely make better use of somewhere else (like the rebuilding of 70-year-old Kanita Junior High school, which is officially CONDEMNED to fall down in the event of a major earthquake).
My Office's Reasoning:
- We decided (kami-sama knows how long ago) that we would buy our ALT a one-way ticket home, and that is what we are gonna do. Because it is the established way and has thereby become the Rule [The Doesn't Make Any]. All hail the Rule.
- The difference in money makes no difference, for the Rule is the Rule, and yea we do so love the Rule of our Beaurocracy, even if it would make every vulcan who has graced the scene of Star Trek want to tear his hair out in its illogical and counterproductive majesty.
- HOWEVER, should the ALT decide that she wants to pay for HALF of the round-trip ticket, that would be acceptible.
So that's the setup. *twitch* Here's the rest:
There are 3 ways that a contracting organization can go about the ticket-buying process:
1. Buy the ticket on the JET's requested day and hand it over.
2. Have the JET buy the ticket, and reimburse them for it afterward, when they present you with the receipt.
3. Give the JET a lump sum of money that is approximately (and usually somewhat of an overshoot of) the expected cost and let them do with it as they will.
After working through, and subsequently getting shot down for, 1 and 2, I proposed 3 to my supervisor a few days ago. The gist of this morning's 8:30am texted reply? "Yea, that ain't gonna work. Looks like you're just gonna have to bite the bullet and hail the Rule like the rest of us.
I'm not sure if it was the early hour, or just the fact that this issue has been bouncing back and forth between us for the last couple of weeks, but I totally snapped. Our following reply texts went something like this:
Me: Ok, now I'm mad. I'll come to the office later to discuss this in person.
Supervisor: Um...ok. I really tried, but I don't think anything will change...
Me: Be that as it may, I'm still coming. I don't understand why the town wants to waste money like this.
Supervisor: I really don't think anything will change at this point. It looks like this is the best we can do.
Me: I'm coming.
So after a healthy rant with my sister over Skype (sorry, Erin), a furious update one-liner on Facebook, and the above cell convo, I headed off to work. Let's just say it was an exhausting day, and leave it at that. When my train rolled back in at 4:30, I then had to walk the 20 minutes to the office in the muggy heat, carrying all my school supplies from my last day, an umbrella (silly me, I thought the pouring rain I woke up to this morning was more than a bluff for the afternoon), and a big bouquet of flowers (beautiful, but big. Very. big.). Hardly put me in a good mood.
When I marched into the office, I found a slip of paper with a number written on it sitting on my desk, and my supervisor glancing at me warily from her chair.
Me: *picks up the paper* What's this?
Supervisor: *carefully* So...I got them to give you a lump sum.
Consequently, what I did not expect to come out of this ordeal was the new-found sense of empowerment in my supervisor. She drove me back to the station from the office after my ride home bailed on me (yea, this week's just been one good thing after another), and the whole way, she just kept repeating "I worked really hard at this. I really put everything I had into it. Really. A lot." Over and over. After I exhausted my vocabulary for various ways to say "thank you" (and believe me, in Japanese there are a LOT of ways to say "thank you"), it occurred to me that she seemed to be in something of a state of shock. Like it never occurred to this woman that the Rule could be questioned. But hell, if I've put a seed of revolution in the ranks, I'm not about to pull back now.
Here's what happened:
This week I'm at my Minmaya schools (for the last time, WOOT!), so I get to sleep in and take the 11am bus to work. Usually, that's the start of a good day. However, when I receive a text on such days at 8:30am from my supervisor, I'm definitely still in bed and not quite ready to take on the world. After a considerably restless night (during which I somehow managed to pull a muscle in my left shoulder), I rolled over and blinked at the screen of my cell.
Let's just say 8:30am is NOT the time to send Mel a long text in Japanese bearing only bad news.
Here's a recap/update on the issue of my return plane ticket:
The fact:
- JET requires all contracting organizations to pay for the return flight of their JETs when they come to the end of their contract.
- Round-trip airfare costs less than one-way airfare. By a lot. Period.
Mel's Reasoning:
- A round trip ticket makes sense because: a) I'm coming back to Japan anyway, b) it's clearly cheaper, and c) the higher-ups at the prefectural Board of Ed gave the green light for it.
- A one-way ticket MAKES NO SENSE because it would use money that my poor-ass town could definitely make better use of somewhere else (like the rebuilding of 70-year-old Kanita Junior High school, which is officially CONDEMNED to fall down in the event of a major earthquake).
My Office's Reasoning:
- We decided (kami-sama knows how long ago) that we would buy our ALT a one-way ticket home, and that is what we are gonna do. Because it is the established way and has thereby become the Rule [The Doesn't Make Any]. All hail the Rule.
- The difference in money makes no difference, for the Rule is the Rule, and yea we do so love the Rule of our Beaurocracy, even if it would make every vulcan who has graced the scene of Star Trek want to tear his hair out in its illogical and counterproductive majesty.
- HOWEVER, should the ALT decide that she wants to pay for HALF of the round-trip ticket, that would be acceptible.
So that's the setup. *twitch* Here's the rest:
There are 3 ways that a contracting organization can go about the ticket-buying process:
1. Buy the ticket on the JET's requested day and hand it over.
2. Have the JET buy the ticket, and reimburse them for it afterward, when they present you with the receipt.
3. Give the JET a lump sum of money that is approximately (and usually somewhat of an overshoot of) the expected cost and let them do with it as they will.
After working through, and subsequently getting shot down for, 1 and 2, I proposed 3 to my supervisor a few days ago. The gist of this morning's 8:30am texted reply? "Yea, that ain't gonna work. Looks like you're just gonna have to bite the bullet and hail the Rule like the rest of us.
I'm not sure if it was the early hour, or just the fact that this issue has been bouncing back and forth between us for the last couple of weeks, but I totally snapped. Our following reply texts went something like this:
Me: Ok, now I'm mad. I'll come to the office later to discuss this in person.
Supervisor: Um...ok. I really tried, but I don't think anything will change...
Me: Be that as it may, I'm still coming. I don't understand why the town wants to waste money like this.
Supervisor: I really don't think anything will change at this point. It looks like this is the best we can do.
Me: I'm coming.
So after a healthy rant with my sister over Skype (sorry, Erin), a furious update one-liner on Facebook, and the above cell convo, I headed off to work. Let's just say it was an exhausting day, and leave it at that. When my train rolled back in at 4:30, I then had to walk the 20 minutes to the office in the muggy heat, carrying all my school supplies from my last day, an umbrella (silly me, I thought the pouring rain I woke up to this morning was more than a bluff for the afternoon), and a big bouquet of flowers (beautiful, but big. Very. big.). Hardly put me in a good mood.
When I marched into the office, I found a slip of paper with a number written on it sitting on my desk, and my supervisor glancing at me warily from her chair.
Me: *picks up the paper* What's this?
Supervisor: *carefully* So...I got them to give you a lump sum.
Consequently, what I did not expect to come out of this ordeal was the new-found sense of empowerment in my supervisor. She drove me back to the station from the office after my ride home bailed on me (yea, this week's just been one good thing after another), and the whole way, she just kept repeating "I worked really hard at this. I really put everything I had into it. Really. A lot." Over and over. After I exhausted my vocabulary for various ways to say "thank you" (and believe me, in Japanese there are a LOT of ways to say "thank you"), it occurred to me that she seemed to be in something of a state of shock. Like it never occurred to this woman that the Rule could be questioned. But hell, if I've put a seed of revolution in the ranks, I'm not about to pull back now.