Great Teacher A-Chan

Being in such a ghetto area, you have to expect the standard to be a little low. In fact, when I visited nearby Elementary schools, I found most 5th and 6th graders were better in English than my ichinensei. In junior high, students are motivated to study because they need to take the entrance exams for highschool – the better the school, the more difficult the exam. Although 97% of students go on to high school, most Kumiyama junior high students come from working class families (the majority of employment in this town is farming and factory work) and thus will either drop out, or attend only the minimum standard highschool. They really don’t need to get good grades.

I thought it was just the English that was poor, but as another teacher was telling me recently ‘yes, English level is very low... also Japanese level low’. Another teacher piped up ‘Also mathematic level, low’, and still another chimed in ‘Science level... low’. Yep, there’s no denying it, this school is ghetto. Maybe all the kids are suffering from hairspray fume-induced brain damage. For some reason it’s totally in fashion this month for girls to spike up the back of their hair with hairspray. We’re not talking about short hair either – long beautiful hair, messed up into bunches with product. It’s as though all the bad girls and psycho girls saw yamamba walk past and decided she knew what it was all about when it comes to hair. It’s weird.

Anyway, there are countless examples of bad English in this school. One ninensei boy only knows one English phrase: ‘Kill you’. Charming, isn’t it? He takes every chance he can to scream these words in the hopes of a shocked reaction. Usually I just respond with ‘Kill you? Are you sure? Well, ok’ and then make some dramatic show of stabbing him or shooting him, which he and his friends think is a hilarious game (almost as funny as the girl who uses air-swords to stab me while making this adorable soft ‘fuuuuuu’ marshmallow sound. It’s totally non-violent, I assure you. It’s an ongoing joke with us). One of the psycho girls only knows how to demand things. If I’m drinking water, she thrusts out her hand and shouts ‘Water please!’. If I have a toy koala for a class activity, it’s ‘Koala please!’. If I’m carrying nothing at all? ‘Money please!’. I don’t mind, but it’s very loud and shrill (sounds funny coming from me doesn’t it?). Today I was chewing gum, so it was ‘Gum please!’, but was interrupted by the soft-spoken, beautiful Catherine (Catherine is silent in a foreboding way. She’s one of the Bad Girl Bosses) who looked me up and down in my less-than-conventional clothes and said ‘Sensei... smart?’. I got it straight away. See, today we were all trekking out to the nearby Public Hall for chorus performances by all the classes. I hadn’t realised this was formal dress until I rocked up that morning and all the teachers were dressed up. Even the sports teacher had ditched his usual tracksuit for a suit and tie. Oops. They don’t miss a beat.

In class the other day, I’d made an activity for the ninensei where they had to practice a telephone conversation in pairs, decide what to do on the weekend, where to meet and when. I then strolled around the classroom, randomly ‘calling’ students to go through the conversation with them. I called one boy (by kneeling next to his desk and making a ringing sound until he picked up), but he was having a lot of trouble with the English. When I asked ‘what would you like to do on Saturday?’ he was stumped. Finally his friend whispered something in his ear, which made them both giggle, but at least he answered. ‘Let’s sleep.’

I assumed the joke was that he just wanted to sleep in instead of going out (I know, I know, how can you be that naïve when you’ve been working in a junior high school for 3 months already?), and delighted that he was finally doing the exercise, I continued. ‘Oh! That’s a great idea! Where should we meet?’ Again he consulted with his friend, and both of them now laughing madly, he managed to spit out ‘Let’s meet my house!’

Ok, I get it now. So what exactly do you do in this situation? The pair of them are falling off their chairs laughing, and that sight is just... amusing. I start to laugh. My goodness, I can’t help it, I laugh uncontrollably. The kids can’t recover, and I can’t stop laughing at them. The other teacher asks me if we’re ok, and despite their inappropriate comments, I don’t really want the kids to get in trouble, so I tell him we’re fine.

At least they’re trying to use English, right? RIGHT?

Posted by a-chan at 3:53 PM | Permalink | Comments | links to this post   

Potato-sensei provides such endless amusement. Recently we were having a takoyaki-party at another teacher’s house, and I noticed that Potato’s bag was printed with the name ‘EDWIN’. Out of interest I mentioned that Edwin is my father’s name, to which Potato and Moe-sensei answered that in Japan it’s a popular jeans brand, and proceeded to show me the tag on the jeans they were wearing. Potato-sensei went a step further, declaring ‘underwear too!’ and lifted his shirt to show me the large ‘EDWIN’ print across the underwear band, Calvin Klein style. Well, something about the mannerisms involved just seemed hilarious, and I started laughing. Even moreso when Potato pointed to his underwear and said flatly ‘Your father. Your father in my pants’.

Well, by this time I was in a right fit of laughter, and it didn’t help when Potato started doing an odd little crotch dance (did I mention he’d been drinking already?) and speaking in his best ventriloquist voice, calling ‘Amy... Amy... I’m your father... Amy... It’s me, Edwin’, as though my Dad were speaking from right out of his pants. I’m sure you can imagine it just went downhill from there.

The following Monday at school, I got a call. A pants call. In one of those dull moments, Potato-sensei started calling again ‘Amy... Amy... It’s me, your father’, then acted surprised as he looked down at his pants. ‘Oh! Your father calling!’

I feel really sorry for my Dad. I never intended to imply that he lives in my coworker’s pants.

Posted by a-chan at 3:50 PM | Permalink | Comments | links to this post   

A few weeks back, a group of exchange students visited from Queensland. Lovely for me, as sightseeing suddenly became part of my paid job description, and going to parties on a weekend turned into overtime. On several occasions, one of my English teachers made a point of inviting me along to help her to socialise with the exchange teacher from Queensland, whom she was hosting.

This teacher decided it was a fantastic idea to try to teach the other teachers Australian slang. I’ve never been big on slang, or at least I assumed that was the case, until I discovered just how much of my daily vocabulary was colloquial. Anyway, he decided to teach 3 of the teachers some Australian sayings – ‘Whatcha goin’ on about?’, ‘What’s the damage?’ and ‘Bring the beef’ (which became a bizarre adaptation of the notion of ‘having a beef with someone’ – in the end the real expression was too difficult to explain in Japanese). It’s fantastic because one of the teachers now uses these sayings on a regular basis, but completely out of context. Like you’ll pass him in the hall and say good morning, and he’ll shrug and say ‘What’s the damage?’

As this particular teacher, Potato-sensei, sits at the desk opposite me, we have some interesting daily conversations. He suffers from hay fever, so he’s often getting ‘Bless you’s from me in response to his sneezes. On one occasion, he sneezed, and an older teacher sitting next to him had caught onto the game and offered a very well spoken ‘God Bless You’ (let it be known that this teacher does not ordinarily use English, even to me, unless he’s drunk). Potato-sensei was a little stumped, but was prompted by the other teacher.

‘Please say ‘thank you’.’
‘Oh. Thank you.’
‘It’s my pleasure’, the blesser replied grandly. Potato-sensei gaped at him for a moment, aware he had me as an audience, then turned up his nose and said proudly ‘Bring the beef’. The other teacher, of course, had no idea what he was on about, but Potato-sensei just threw him a knowing look and said definitively, ‘I study English too.’

Posted by a-chan at 3:47 PM | Permalink | Comments | links to this post   

In order to make things easier to understand and refer to, I’ve decided to define the general student groups in my school. Some of these are typical stereotypes you’d find in any school (or anime for that matter), and some are just little bonuses unique to my school.

Yankees
Yankees are fantastic, provided you’re watching them on TV, or at least from a safe distance. In real life they’re total brats. My school has 2 yankee girls and about 5 yankee boys. They’re characterized by bleached orange hair, volumised and spiked up ridiculously with enough product to smother a cow, a smattering of silver jewellery, and replacing the school shirt with a long t-shirt bearing some sort of slogan. That, and the patented yankee sneer.

The Yankees attend school only to cause trouble. If someone’s getting beaten up, you can be fairly certain it’s a yankee throwing the punches. They come to class late and spend the time shouting, climbing out the windows or walking around pretending to be a teacher and doing all in their power to distract the rest of the class. It’s very hard to build a repoire with them because they pretty much look at you with death in their eyes. They like my sunglasses though.

Yamambas
What can I say, they’re delinquents. They have blonde hair and crazy tans and loose socks and too much makeup. But they’re amusing. The just seem to have lost some important brain functions at some point that make them completely spaced out and just a little angry about it. When everyone is rehearsing marches for the sports festival, they’re breaking up the formation doing para-para. Instead of working in class, they’re glueing sequins to their fingernails. But I love them. I’m not sure why yet.

Comedians
The comedian culture in Japan is rampant. Actors adopt an ‘all-round’ approach, establishing a quirky character and appearing on gameshows, variety shows, idol challenges, cooking programs and talk shows. Some students model themselves after such behaviour, particularly here in Kansai, the home of true (Osaka) humour. These kids are a riot. My favourite comedian is ‘Johnny Deppa’ – his real name is something far less interesting, but he chose this title for himself in my first week, after I told my students my boyfriend was Johnny Depp to get them off my case. Please note the subtle difference of Johnny Deppa. He feels the need to point that out a lot.

Anyway, Johnny Deppa. This was the same boy who gondola’d past my desk singing with a bicycle pump. If someone says something he believes to be outrageous, he’ll slap them with a dramatic ‘Na’n de yo ne!’ (A trademark Osaka-style comedic move, meaing ‘What are you talking about?’), or throw himself onto the ground with a wail as if he’s been socked in the face. He always wears an enormous grin, and will frequently humiliate himself for the benefit of others, whether it be wearing his gym shorts for a bonnet or pretending to commit suicide from the 2nd-storey window. When it comes to our interactions, he lives or dies depending on whether I give him a hi-5.

Pyscho Girls
These are mostly sannensei as they’re the most ballsy. In most schools these would be referred to as ‘genki’ students. But my school is in the ghetto, and thus, they are psycho. Happy, but psycho. They communicate everything in mad screams and with much gusto, they spontaneously break into dances or games in the hallway. They’re the best source of gossip, usually because they’re the ones that start it. But they’re fun. They’re loud. They’re always the ones making a public commentary on my dress-sense or teasing me about being girlfriended to Johnny Deppa or the Australian exchange student.

Otaku
You can pick them out a mile off. The shirt’s tucked in too far, the hair’s limp and dull, they’re shy, keep their head down and generally try to avoid anyone figuring out they exist. But mention you share a few of their hobbies and watch their faces light up. It’s adorable in its own geeky way.

Sports Girls
These are a pretty textbook anime stereotype. They’re often slightly taller, their hair is cut boyishly short, they’re energetic, hard-working and strong-willed, but good students and delightfully friendly. The true stars have their own little fanclubs when they train. They’re role models for younger students. It saddens me, because these are the girls that should be tomorrow’s leaders, not tomorrow’s housewives.

Kendo Boys
Kendo’s huge in my school. Kumiyama actually took first place in some national junior high tournament this Summer (I don’t know the details, crazy kanji). Probably 10% of my male students are in the kendo club. And you can tell. When a kid with his head shaved to a #2 stands up to introduce himself, you just know that after his name, the first words out of his mouth are going to be ‘I’m in kendo club’. Personally I love their little fuzzy heads.

The president of the kendo club is Thorpie (did I mention I can’t remember their names? They love the English nickname game though, which suits me just fine). He’s the resident sports star, good at everything and with the build of an athlete. He’s a good student and friendly to all his underclassmen. Most kendo club kids tend to be good students, what with the discipline it teaches. The only problem is the kendo twins.

Aaah, the kendo twins. Two sannensei boys who look identical. Now, I’m pretty good at telling Japanese kids apart, but these two (with matching buzzcuts) just elude me. They’re in separate classes; I don’t know if they even know each other outside of kendo club. One of them is the most wonderful student ever. He’s earnest, kind, always makes a point of talking to me and encouraging me after class, helps me clean the board and sort my notes – a total sweetheart. His twin is – excuse the expression – a little bastard. This kid will turn hyperactive for no particular reason and start merrily beating up on other students or shouting nonsense. He won’t work in class and is likely to throw cleaning equipment at anyone who looks at him funny in the hallway. You do not engage this student.

The problem is, until they open their mouths, I can’t tell them apart, except for one saving grace – bastard boy has an earring. A tiny crystal stud in his left ear. It’s like something out a film. I’ll see a kendo twin walking up the hallway… should I wave? Should I pretend I don’t see him? I begin to raise my hand in a greeting, but I still can’t see him properly, I can’t tell… then I see that fated glimmer of flashing crystal as he turns his head. GASP! THE EARRING! It’s bastard boy! Abort! Abort!

Bad Girls
They’re known as the Bad Girls. At least that’s how they’ll be described to you, whether it be teachers, students, or the class pet. They’re not bad news for me, just for everyone else.

Bad Girls always have long, beautiful hair. This is because Bad Girls don’t belong to any clubs. In fact, as a general rule, if you want to figure out who the nice kids are in a school, look at the length of their hair – the shorter, the better. Bad Girls set the standard for short skirts, and come second only to the yamamba in their use of makeup. The Bad Girls are beautiful, and they’re bitches. They lock other students in lockers or toilet stalls or closets and degrade them verbally while banging on the door. Bad Girls breeze into class late as if making their appearance at a gala event. They’re too cool to get excited.

The Bad Girls are difficult for me, because we get along just fine and have fun chatting, but in the back of my mind I’m always remembering the last girl they tortured.

Posted by a-chan at 10:12 AM | Permalink | Comments | links to this post