Failed escape

“Nice catchy!” yelled the fourth-grade teacher, with a big grin on her face. In both of her hands, she had a firm grasp on two six-year-olds. They had been running down the hallway during cleaning time. N-sensei was at the right place to scoop up the two tiny deviants in her arms, and escort them back to the other end of the hallway.

You are out-o.

AKB48 - Dirty girls, memorable tunes

As teachers, we shouldn't have favourites, right?! But I do. This year, I've gotta hand it over to the second-graders. When we first met, they were tiny tots. That is, they were sixth-graders in elementary school. I was their first ALT - maybe even the first foreigner they've developed some sort of friendship. 

I distinctly remember meeting Keizou-kun when he was a mere eleven-year-old, who appeared to be a mature and responsible kiddo. When a little girl got some dust on her pants during cleaning time, he carefully brushed it away with his hand. But then he got to junior high school, and he became one of the loudest and most hilarious kids ever. No longer strapped down to the notion that he had to be "mature and responsible,"he turned into a big goofball when he entered 2chu last year. I think that's fine, because kids need to be kids. They can't always be serious, right? 

Anyways, K-kun is just one of the kids who I like joking around with. And it's pretty funny to see him grow up. Last year, his pencil case was decorated with the reward stickers I would hand out during class. He racked up quite a few, and always asked me to save him the Mickey stickers in jewel tones. This year, I noticed he got rid of it and now uses a tin case to store his mechanical pencils. On the inner flap, he has carefully placed a sticker of an AKB48 member. 

Who's AKB48? I don't even know how to describe the group in a nutshell. You could say they are the latest Japanese teen girl pop sensation. There are 48 girls, in their teens and early twenties, who make up this super group. They sing catchy tunes with lyrics that don't make any sense. At first, I thought they were harmless. I tried singing "ポニーテールとシュシュ" with one of J's 12-year-old students at a local karaoke bar. And at my school festival, the school orchestra played "Akb48 Aitakatta" to the delight of the entire school population. The head boy even mimicked the popular music video, and strutted around in a school girl uniform. 

But despite their catchy tunes, the girls are completely dressed age-inappropriately. Their image is totally slaggy (as the Brits say). I finally got around to watching their music videos, and I've realized they are terrible role models. They wear skimpy clothes, and most definitely prance around like they're older than their true ages. Yuck. 

And yet, I still find myself reaching a common ground when I talk about "AKB48" with my kids. I really shouldn't encourage my students to admire this trashy group, but they're just so catchy. Kind of like my generation's love-hate relationship with Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera. (Dang, I feel old).

As I was saying, I teased my poor student, saying: "Hey, K-kun! Your girlfriend?" He looked at me, and then smirked. The pencil tin was firmly shut. HA! 

But I think the funniest AKB48 moment happened yesterday. I was playing an ESL game of "Criss Cross," asking the students some assorted questions. I threw out the topic "AKB48." The rest of the class pressured me to make Ryota-kun answer the question. He blushed, but eventually declared in perfect English: "I think that AKB48 is... cute!" Everyone let out a loud "WOOOOOOOOOOO!" 

As did I. 

"Ms. Gemma doesn't have to speak perfect Japanese."

"Are you bald?" Moe-chan asked me with a smile.  You see, M-chan and I were perched over the classic board game of Guess Who. I have a small travel-sized version of it, and brought it into school this week to entice some students to play with me. To prove that I've been trying to study Japanese, I retorted with "hage!" (The Japanese word for "baldness.") When I played with the new Chinese student, she actually asked me for some clarification about English grammar. Like whoa. 

My contract says that I can consider lunch recess as my personal time. I often choose to hang out with my students. When I don't feel like "cold chatting," I come armed with tricks. Guess Who, card games, funny Youtube videos on my Mac, my iPod Touch, etc. Last year, I used to play a round of cards with the baseball team. I was popular with them, because I brought in a shiny deck of cards emblazoned with Canadian hundred dollar bills. (They were stuck playing with a deck of cards they fashioned out of paper scraps. It's against school rules for them to bring in things like candy or games, I guess.)

It still frustrates me when I can't communicate easily. When I call the taxi dispatcher, I'm pretty sure my limited Japanese makes me sound like I'm three years old. My set phrases basically translate into: "Hello. 1:30. The train station, pretty please. Thank you! Yes, the train station." 

Last week, however, the kids wrote something on their handouts. They had to practice using "doesn't have to" in their sentences. When they brought up their answers, I found that a lot of them had written "Ms. Gemma doesn't have to speak perfect Japanese." For some reason, that notion really struck a chord with me. Sure, these kids probably mimicked the sentence structure from their textbook. But still, they truly made me realize that I don't have to speak perfect Japanese! 

At a dinner this week, my supervisor remarked that my speaking skills have come along way. Even M-san said I've learned a lot! I use a lot of slang, but I mostly sound overly formal in tone. Still, it's nice to hear that my BoE thinks I've improved. And I was pretty happy when I was able to sit down on a picnic blanket at a recent sports meet, and share some stories with the mothers' of the volleyball girls. They seemed delighted when I could recognize their kids. And one mother even said she was pleased Saki was able to e-mail in English with me! 

がんばります！("I'll do my best.")

Sake, shrines and students

Loud echoes of "Seiya!" and lanterns filled the night air a couple weekends ago in Motomiya. Dressed in a green happi coat with obi and make-up in tones meant for Japanese skin, I shouted in unison with the ladies who were wearing Japanese festival outfits just like mine. There was a woman standing on a portable shrine, bouncing up and down as we carried the wooden "mikoshi" on our shoulders. The rest of our ladies' mikoshi team shouted "Seiya!" At the end of the festival, shoulders sore and head buzzing with alcohol, the shrine would meet congregate at the main intersection with two large floats. A group of men stood on the two immense floats bearing beautiful red lanterns lit up with candles. Local students milled about excitedly, screaming "Wasshoi! Wasshoi!"

I was amidst all of this chaos. Once again, I signed up for the ladies'-only team that carries a mikoshi during the fall festival. It is carried from the big shrine in downtown Motomiya, then around town. (According to the Shinto religion, this wooden portable shrine contains the divine spirit.) After what seemed like 10 minutes of carrying the mikoshi, we'd set it down and take a break. We were given all kinds of things to quench our thirst - mostly beers and Japanese sake. I love Japan, right!? 

My shoulders were sore after a bout of carrying it throughout the afternoon and early evening. And I was mostly excited to meet so many people that I knew. One of my fave former students, A-chan, joined this year's team. She's a tall girl who is now a first-year high school student. So, it really good to see her again and share the experience with her! I had seen her out shopping earlier that morning, and she was the one who told me to get toe socks for the day, lol. They fit better in the geta (Japanese footwear) we had to wear. 

I ran into the dude, who only know as "Tiger 'Oods," because he likes women?! He was at the "young people" work party we had last year, where B. and I sat in a room with 20 other twentysomethings who work at city hall. His fiancee, a really sweet girl named M-chan, took me under her wing during the festival when she realized I really had 

I saw my students: tiny tots from elementary school, the teens from junior high and even the current high school kids who I've taught in the past when they attended 2chu. Seeing all of them really made my town feel like home. Surprisingly, a lot of them approached me and even spit out some words in English. I saw Y-chan, one of the girls who used her limited English to yell "I love you, Gemma!" last month. I wished her a "Happy Birthday!" Earlier that day, I saw A-chan, one of her friends, who told me she was on her way to buy a present for Y-chan. I introduced all of my students to my friends, and made them say things like "Hello, I'm Kenta! Nice to meetchu." Cho kawaii.

The Mayumi team threw a great dinner party and after party as well. There was a hilarious drinking game, where we passed around a wooden box filled with sake. When I finally left to catch my last train, the organizers bid me adieu and pressed me to join them next year. Well, that's all, ladies. It was grand carrying the mikoshi with you down the streets of Motomiya.

I know a lot of these memories are quite detailed and perhaps mundane. But hopefully I'll remember most of the kids I've met over the years, even when I go back home.

Spooks

"Kimochi warui!" screamed K-kun, as I forced him to stick his hand into the mysterious cardboard box. I told him he was touching B's eyeballs, and the kid scrunched up his face and could only laugh at me.

Last week, I was allowed to give some lessons about Hallowe'en. For all of my classes, I told them the same "scary" story. It was the tragic tale about my friend, B., who is killed by a monster after eating his toe for dinner. I then tell the kids I have some of B's remains in a cardboard box, because the police thought it would be appropriate for me to hold onto them. I think the kids were really tickled by the story, because lots of them have either met or seen B. around town as well.

I am often impressed when my kids remember the little things I've taught them. Two years ago, I taught this song to all of the kids: "Trick or treat! Smell my feet! Give me something good to eat! Not too small! Not too big! Just the size of Montreal!" And surprisingly, I heard B-kun, who is a now a third-year student, humming it around the halls last week. (He was a tiny first-year student when I taught my Hallowe'en lessons using that song).

I'm going through a bittersweet time of "last moments in Japan." I will miss hearing a class of eager Japanese kids cheer loudly when I tell them that day's lesson is all about Hallowe'en.