Part of the regular duties of a junior high school AET (Assistant English Teacher) on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching ) Programme, is to visit primary schools (grades 1-6) during the month of March while the middle schools are completing final exams. Yes, the end of the school year is the end of March - and no, they don't go on vacation until August. I'll show you a list explaining the number of school days.
It was a Friday - my office day. Lucky bugger that I am, all us AETs really only do teaching four days a week and are supposed to spend the fifth day at the board of education offices writing up reports of the weeks events or teaching people there English. I did both for a bout a week. And then it was just kind of never brought up again. If you think about it, how the hell is anyone just arriving in Japan supposed to teach anyone English. At least at school, I had a Japanese teacher of English. Back to the long-winded story.
As I sat down at my desk near Hanazaki-san, he told me that I would have to visit a primary school soon. Apparently soon meant today.
At 10AM I was whisked away from the security of my desk and computer and was tossed into the backseat of a white Cherry Vanette (a popular mini van built by Nissan). My driver, whose name I did not learn for months - Hashimoto-san, explained to me (in Japanese) that when we arrived at Ichinosawa Sho Gakko (I now realized I was going to Ichinosawa Elementary School) for the afternoon seeing as how I had failed to provide weekly reports to the OBOE (Ohtawara Board of Education). Of course I didn't do reports. I'm from Canada, and unless you ask for one every week by actually asking about it every week, I'm going to conveniently forget about it. At least that what I remember about this situation.
After a short 15 minute drive, Hashimoto-san removed my blindfold and handcuffs (he didn't have to apply the handcuffs and blindfold, that's just something he liked to do). Looking about, I certainly wasn't prepared for the sights before me. All I could thin was: "Don't look now, Toto, but I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."
I was surrounded. Peeking through the car windows, standing on their toes were thousands of Munchkins--all of them jabbering away in a strange tongue I later came to call Munchkinese. Not having a command of the language, I was loathe to leave the santuary of the car. My hosts thought otherwise and dragged me screaming hysterically from the vehicle.
I was paraded through the school to the freezer room that funnily enough looked just like the unheated gymnasiums I had come to know through my 20 years of being a student back in Canada.
 |
| Pete Rose's haircut |
Just like the movie The Wizard of Oz, it was evident I had nothing to fear from the tiny creatures.
We sat cross-legged on the cold, hard floor and began to build our own kites - because it was March and it was windy, and perhaps I could use it to escape Munchkin Land. I drew a rocket ship on my kite--one of the little fellows pointed at it and asked: "SCUD desu ka (Is it S.C.U.D. missile?)" Who the heck teaches little Munchkins this kind of stuff?
Anyhow, following the kite-building, there was a 20-minute autograph session. Who knew that the news of my new found sexual prowess had reached Munchkin Land? No, that couldn't be the reason--I'm sure I was the first real-life foreigner they had ever seen in the flesh. I suppose all the other foreigners they had met were on TV or in the movies, and are thus famous--ergo, all foreigners are famous, so we better get this guy's autograph just in case.
Finally, after running out of ink, we went outside to fly our kites, As luck would have it, we had a hurricane (sorry, typhoon)-like wind blowing.
Wonder of wonders! Our pathetic little kites worked! Aviation pioneers around the world would have been proud! But things in Munchkin Land are never as smooth as they would first appear. In this my first ever attempt to fly a kite (really!), it flew up a few metres and crashed to the ground, killing one of the poor unfortunate Munchkins. He let out his death scream: "Bakayaro! (Ya stupid idiot!)", and then expired. Good grief.
My next attempt at kite flying was better as I managed to use up all 1,600 metres of string. Ah, what fun. There were kites and bodies everywhere as the poor Munchkins tried to get their creations in the air. I helped as many as I could--but when I tried to help a little girl Munchkin with hers, I asked a boy Munchkin to hold my kite. He hasn't been seen since. Perhaps he made it back to the Kansai Region (could that just be a misspelling of Kansas?)
Thankfully (for them), it was soon lunch time. They made me sit in a tiny chair at a tiny desk, with tiny amounts of food on a tiny plate. It was then that I first wondered if Munchkins were good to eat. Didin't matter anyway--I couldn't really use the tiny chopstick-like utensils they gave me that they called hashi.
Afterward, they made me sing a song from my homeland--so I sang the Canadian National anthem, O Canada. I couldn't remember the words - stage fright, I guess - but my embarrassment quickly disappeared as I realized they didn't know the difference.
Next, they gave me one of their costumes--a large, dark blue tracksuit--and then really srtared to pile on the gifts they called omiyage. Then someone found another pen and they forced me to sign my name onto various parts of their hairless bodies. It was tattooing or branding, and I got the feeling they were saying we were now a part of one another.
After spending 20-minutes saying bai-bai (good-bye), Hashimoto-san drove me back to my apartment in Ohtawara. No handcuffs or blindfold was provided this time. Awwww.
Catching my breath, I examined the worth of the presents they had given me: cookies, candy, manga (comic books), flowers, photos, a hand-sewn hanky with my name on it, an Ultraman action figure, and potatoes (I got three of them!), I determined that visiting a primary school aka Munchkin Land can be very beneficial to one's knowledge of life in this strange country.
The next day, I was taken to Udakawa Primary School, where we did a lot of Conga Line dancing. PHOTOS.
Somewhere over the rainbow,
Andrew Joseph
Today;s title is played by Iron Maiden. Listen here with EDDIE.
PS: I wish I could show you a lot of the things I got that day - but I lost many things in a house fire a few years back. It really does suck. That handkerchief with my name on it was great--how long had they known I was coming?
