The First Day of School

Sometime around 9am I stepped on a child. This is only because Japan apparently hasn’t heard of mops. For all the intuitive technology and efficient design in this country, mops are not in the picture. Why do mops matter? Because the beginning of each day there is a cleaning period. Everyone including the vice principal get down and dirty. I joined the sweeping team and later moved onto the Cinderella method of scrubbing the floor…of the entire school. As I was cleaning my rag I stepped backwards. Of course, there was a child on ground right behind me.

Next I went to the opening ceremony in the gym. It started at 9:30. I walked in at 9:27 and I was late. I also was not wearing shoes. Usually this wouldn’t matter, but everyone else was wearing shoes. Thanks for the memo.

A part of me was excited for the assembly, “YAY Assembly!” Unfortunately, unbeknownst to me, Japanese assemblies are not very fun. I stood perfectly still for one hour. The kids stood in perfect ascending height order. One student seemed to be wavering out of perfect stance formation. The nurse, with her superhero powers, ran over and got to him right as he passed out. The assembly continued perfectly unaffected. 10 minutes later another kid went down. There is also lots of perfect bowing. One bows to the audience then to the podium, then walks to the podium and bows to the audience, who bows back. When finished, one walks away, bows to the empty podium and stands back in place. Sometimes there are a couple bows thrown in there for more flavor. One also bows to the gym as one exits, even if nobody is in the gym. I have a hard time doing this. My body just refuses to bow to no one. Will I ever break down?

It is also perfectly acceptable to administer a few light slams to the children once in a while. On the top of the head is always a favorite.

Man. I messed up at lunch too. I didn’t finish in time. It took me too long to eat, so the rice cemented to my bowl, which means I couldn’t get it all out with the chopsticks, which was a huge embarrassment. I also lack the skill to pick each sesame seed. Every last crumb must be eaten! But I am out of time. My milk spills. Teachers comment it's the chopsticks. I laugh, but cry inside. FAIL.

I am struggling with two forces. One, to be the best teacher I can be, to act a fool, to make kiddy friends, to seize the moment. Two, to accept I don’t know how to go about that, that I don’t know where everyone has gone, that I don’t know what is going on, and that I scare the children. GANBATTE!