Two highlights from last week

Last Friday I went to the school gym to watch the first year students participate in an event called 'Hyaku nin isshu.' This roughly translates to '100 persons' poems.' The students got into groups of 10, with teams of 3 on 3, a judge, and scorekeepers. They sat on the gym floor with each team facing each other, in between them lying 100 cards the size of playing cards. The cards all had the second half of a Japanese poem called a 'waka' written on them. The whole waka was read out by a teacher on the stage with a microphone, and when the students were able to recognize which was the second half of the waka among the cards, they slapped or took the corresponding card in front of them. With about 240 students and 10 students per group, the entire gym floor was covered with small groups of 13 year-olds, all taking turns getting poised, searching quickly with their eyes and slapping the gym floor.

There was a big drum called a taiko on the stage next to the teacher reading the waka. Before the next poem was to be read, a different teacher would hit the taiko with a drum stick, making a deep BONG! sound that echoed throughout the gym. And the wakas were read with a certain tone and rhythm that made their 900 year old roots come more alive for me. When I saw the principal walking around observing the kids I asked him what the meanings of the poems were, and he told me he didn't know because they were written too long ago. In fact all the writing on the cards was in hiragana, the phonetic alphabet used for Japanese (as opposed to foreign) words; another teacher told me this is because the original Chinese 'kanji' characters they wrote the wakas in aren't used at all anymore.

Some of the kids were really fast. If the teacher read just a few syllables from the waka these students could grab the corresponding card almost immediately. It was fun watching these kids, often grabbing or slapping a card on their opponents' side after hearing just a few of the beginning sounds of the waka. A teacher told me that the students could officially start practicing as early as December for the event. But he also said some families play or practice it at home, and a few of the wakas are exceptionally well-known to Japanese people.

Watching this event was a great highlight for me. This game was not something I would expect as part of a curriculum at a junior high school. In that way, and with the drums, old poetry and rhythmic reading of the poetry it all seemed so Japanese. And after the event came another weekly highlight. After all the games were finished, one of the teachers took an opportunity to address all the first year students regarding recent complaints from teachers.

Apparently some students had been using the classroom key to lock teachers out of the classroom when classes were about to begin. It was interesting hearing this teacher speak because I found myself following his Japanese much better than I expected. I found myself understanding him explain to the kids that they shouldn't do that sort of thing cuz they wouldn't like it being done to them. He spoke at a medium pace and his pronunciation was very easy to follow. This same teacher had just spent time reading poems for the kids during the previous games and there his voice was very full and clear as he followed the rhythmic and tonal pattern of the wakas. I thought his voice much, much clearer than the other teachers' who had also read some poems. I decided if I had the chance I'd compliment him.

At the end of the day as he walked by my desk in the teachers' room I said to him (in Japanese) 'You know your Japanese is easy to understand.' Immediately he smiled, said thank you and something like 'wow, that makes me happy.' Right after I said this to him two things happened very quickly. First, I happened to catch the vice principal staring at me from across the room as if he were following our conversation. This immediately brought to my mind the sound of his Japanese, from day one slurry, usually indecipherable, and in total contrast to the Japanese I had just heard spoken in the gym. Second, right after he said this another teacher happened to walk by and asked him what he was so happy about. He smiled and said 'Paul told me my Japanese is easy to understand. I've gotten praised!' At this time, the teacher who asked him why he was so happy I remembered had just given a speech to the students as well, and done it in pretty clear Japanese too. So I said to him 'Oh and your Japanese as well. It's also easy to understand.' He smiled. 'Oh me too? Thank you very much,' he said, as the vice principal continued to stare with a curious look.

After this I packed up my backpack and began my daily walk out of the teachers' room. As I passed by the vice principal sitting at his desk I said my habitual goodbye phrase regarding honorable work being completed. I noticed that funny look he had in his eye, but ignored it and headed towards the door. Then I heard him say (in Japanese) 'Is my Japanese hard to understand?' I turned around and sort of cocked my head a little to the side like a dog and said back to him (in Japanese) 'uhh it's a little...' He said 'You just told Takenaka sensei and Kobayashi sensei their Japanese is easy to understand. What about mine?' He was smirking. I had no excuses to give him. Since last April I've had many uncomfortable conversations with this tall man that ended with 'Sorry I don't understand,' sentences left unfinished or ended only because we had been interrupted. Then he asked 'Is it too fast?' This made me think of his particular pattern of speech where I thought his words were not spoken too fast but all blended together as if he were chewing with a mouth half full every time he spoke. I lied. 'Yes, too fast' I said. Standing there not knowing what to say next I said, "Well, I'll just have study more huh.' Maybe knowing I was in a tight spot he repeated the phrase about honorably finishing work which any other day meant 'good job today' but the way he said it and flicked his hand I'm pretty sure this time meant 'Just go home ya little smartass.'