This coming Sunday and Monday is the All-Saikai Junior High School Sports Tournament and things look to be pretty serious. Every sports team (club) from all eight of the junior highs in Saikai City will be competing at locations throughout the area (remember that in this case "city" is more like "rural township") and unfortunately it is physically and temporally impossible for me to make it to all of the various games and matches. Perhaps I should say "we", since Drew (my old roommate) will be arriving on Friday for a long visit.
In preparation for all that, we had a pep rally today at school. Well, "pep rally" would be the equivalent event in the US, but I would hardly apply that word and all that it entails to today's assembly.
To start, there are only about 130 students in the school, making it substantially more difficult to have crowds of yelling and cheering students. Another barrier to crowds of yelling and cheering students is a bit more formidable: Japanese culture. First though, some context.
There is only one non-sport club at Oshima JHS, and the art club's only been around since this past April. This is fairly common, from what I can gather, or in the very least the majority of clubs are sports clubs. Students only belong to one club, and that club becomes their group. Occasionally students will change clubs between years, but this isn't overly common I don't think.
So for the assembly, the students that aren't on one of the teams sat and waited in the gym, seated on the floor as usual (only the graduation and entrance ceremonies merit chairs, and that's because they put down a special rubber floor). They put some marching music on the PA (the same as in the Sports Day last weekend, which is its own story), and all of the teams marched into the gym in turn, to the applause of those of us waiting inside.
That was about as "peppy" as it got. It bears noting that the applause was the standard "I have to clap" applause, and there was certainly no "hooting" and / or "hollering" involved in any way whatsoever. Well, except from me, but I'm a crazy foreigner.
Once in the gym, everyone stood up and bowed to begin the assembly, and then the teams took turns hustling up on stage, introducing their members, bowing with a hearty "onegaishimasu!" and hustling off the stage, with varying levels of loudness and enthusiasm. After that there was a speech from the principal, a speech from a student council member, and then we all sang the school song. The assembly was closed with a bow, and then the each team got together for their team picture.
Not quite the old "rah rah siss boom bah!" is it?
forget love, let's crush the future opposition!
-greg.
ps: oh, "onegaishimasu" means... hm. well, it gets used all the time actually, but it is kind of like asking someone for a favor, or for support, or as a nice way to ask for something or.... it's polite, and it's important, but don't quote me on the rest.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
this is your life [2008.05.14]
You work your way on top of the shard of broken pottery sitting in your little plastic basin and look up at the children hunched over, staring at you. They are excited, but eventually they lose interest or else are hustled along by one of their teachers. You try to climb up the plastic, only to slide right back down the side.
You stop and listen: you hear no scraping from the basin next to you. In fact, there probably isn't even a basin there anymore. Only you.
They put you in the metal trough sink sometimes and wash the brown water out of your tub, cleaning it and putting fresh water in. The little ones throw you your food and squeal in delight as you eat it down.
Every Wednesday, I look down at you as you look up at me, trying in vain to scale the plastic sides of your tub, thumping when you inevitably hit the bottom after losing your grip. You might as well be Sisyphus, except you tricked no one to be here; you are simply slow and interesting to children.
You are Biggest Sad Turtle, and this is your life. You are Biggest Sad Turtle, and you are possible the only thing that is sad in all of Oshima Kindergarten.
But you are very very sad.
in the future, deserve's still got nothing to do with it,
-greg.
You stop and listen: you hear no scraping from the basin next to you. In fact, there probably isn't even a basin there anymore. Only you.
They put you in the metal trough sink sometimes and wash the brown water out of your tub, cleaning it and putting fresh water in. The little ones throw you your food and squeal in delight as you eat it down.
Every Wednesday, I look down at you as you look up at me, trying in vain to scale the plastic sides of your tub, thumping when you inevitably hit the bottom after losing your grip. You might as well be Sisyphus, except you tricked no one to be here; you are simply slow and interesting to children.
You are Biggest Sad Turtle, and this is your life. You are Biggest Sad Turtle, and you are possible the only thing that is sad in all of Oshima Kindergarten.
But you are very very sad.
in the future, deserve's still got nothing to do with it,
-greg.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
employment opportunities [2008.05.09]
If I ever fail in pursuits related to computers or languages I know that I will always have a future as a cat-herder. It's close enough at least to what I do every Wednesday when I go teach at the kindergarten here in Oshima.
In Oshima there are two classes, divided by age group. The Flower group is for the 4-5 year olds and the Rainbow group is for 5-6 year olds. The Rainbow kids graduate up to elementary school at the end of the year, and the Flower group becomes the new Rainbow group.
Now, the Japanese school year runs from April to March, so up until the end of the previous school year I had 31 crazy, wonderful, all-over-the-place little munchkins running around every Wednesday morning during my hour long English class. Twelve of them graduated in March but I got a fresh crop of 11 itty-bitty four year-olds in April, and that's just a totally different animal. That could almost be a literal statement, based on the difference that four months of kindergarten makes in how these kids behave. The cat-herding description is even more accurate now.
My days at the kindergarten run from 10am-3pm. Technically the kids generally leave at 2pm, but afterwards the teachers clean a little and then have "tea time". That's what the they call it, a little pinch of English mixed into the Japanese. English class itself runs from 1030-1130, and then after that it's chaos, lunch, then some more chaos, with general kindergarten-type learning stuff thrown in for good measure.
Overall these kids are warm, friendly, curious, innocent, and adorable. That's a lot of adjectives, but they deserve it. Of course there's the kid who cries as soon as he gets to school and then refuses to eat lunch, the one who cries if he gets too excited, and the little spoiled one who's always bothering the other kids and throws a tantrum if he doesn't get what he wants, but they're four years old, what should one expect?
All of the different schools have their own perks and charms, but I really love the simple joy and fun of the kindergarten and the younger kids. Ironically, I get to talk to them almost more than the junior high kids because I realized that English Only with five year olds is stupid.
walking through the future jungle,
-greg.
ps: speaking of six year olds, some of the first graders asked me yesterday if i was from the US. when i said yes, one of the girls asked me if i was going home to America that night. she couldn't believe it when i said i lived in Oshima. i love it.
pps: "walking through the jungle" is quite possibly their favorite book. crocodile!
In Oshima there are two classes, divided by age group. The Flower group is for the 4-5 year olds and the Rainbow group is for 5-6 year olds. The Rainbow kids graduate up to elementary school at the end of the year, and the Flower group becomes the new Rainbow group.
Now, the Japanese school year runs from April to March, so up until the end of the previous school year I had 31 crazy, wonderful, all-over-the-place little munchkins running around every Wednesday morning during my hour long English class. Twelve of them graduated in March but I got a fresh crop of 11 itty-bitty four year-olds in April, and that's just a totally different animal. That could almost be a literal statement, based on the difference that four months of kindergarten makes in how these kids behave. The cat-herding description is even more accurate now.
My days at the kindergarten run from 10am-3pm. Technically the kids generally leave at 2pm, but afterwards the teachers clean a little and then have "tea time". That's what the they call it, a little pinch of English mixed into the Japanese. English class itself runs from 1030-1130, and then after that it's chaos, lunch, then some more chaos, with general kindergarten-type learning stuff thrown in for good measure.
Overall these kids are warm, friendly, curious, innocent, and adorable. That's a lot of adjectives, but they deserve it. Of course there's the kid who cries as soon as he gets to school and then refuses to eat lunch, the one who cries if he gets too excited, and the little spoiled one who's always bothering the other kids and throws a tantrum if he doesn't get what he wants, but they're four years old, what should one expect?
All of the different schools have their own perks and charms, but I really love the simple joy and fun of the kindergarten and the younger kids. Ironically, I get to talk to them almost more than the junior high kids because I realized that English Only with five year olds is stupid.
walking through the future jungle,
-greg.
ps: speaking of six year olds, some of the first graders asked me yesterday if i was from the US. when i said yes, one of the girls asked me if i was going home to America that night. she couldn't believe it when i said i lived in Oshima. i love it.
pps: "walking through the jungle" is quite possibly their favorite book. crocodile!
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