where cider meets condensed milk: Requisite Sports Day Photos

where cider meets condensed milk

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Requisite Sports Day Photos

Junior high sports day, take 3:

As this was my 3rd round of sports festival days, none of it seems that novel anymore, but it has still been all-consuming at work. The first time I watched the sports days at my junior high schools, I was thrilled. It was so impressive that the kids and teachers could pull off such a polished performance, and I still remember how nervous I was making a speech in Japanese at the staff party that night. By the end of the following spring term, I realized that the reason it looks so well-rehearsed is because they start practicing in June/July, practice all through summer holiday, and don't hold proper classes in fall term until the festival has been completed. At the start of my second year, having already watched every event practiced multiple times, I was bored silly by the day itself and spent most of the afternoon playing with my elementary students that were present to cheer on their older siblings.

Kamogawa Brass Band: Best known for painful renditions of the national anthem and school song, and jovial oldies medleys that includes "Pretty Woman", "You're Just Too Good to Be True", and "Yankee Doodle"

This year, feeling either more Japanese or completely jaded, I oscillated between awe, smug satisfaction at being (almost) part of a society that places such high emphasis on physical fitness and teamwork, and inevitable boredom. The supposedly hilarious "horse" relay, where one of the smaller boys runs along the backs of crouched classmates from one end of the field to the other, just looked painful, and the hat-grabbing "camel fight" turned a bit malicious, resulting in one bloody nose and one twisted ankle. The events went overtime and the day was blazing hot, as usual. What struck me the most this time was how every single student, regardless of height or weight or appearance, is held the same standards of ability level. Even the chubbier or less coordinated or special ed students run relays and do the group dance and calisthenic routines, and everyone is cheered equally. There are no individual awards or races. It's quite fantastic, really, that it's not a competition, but an expectation of capability.

The highlight of the teachers' relay (which we lost, as usual) was waiting for the handoff from my 65-year-old vice principal, dressed head-to-toe in white, speeding along without losing an inch to the kids he ran against. In contrast to the unspoken teacher uniform of trackies and a polo shirt, he looked quite dapper and ready to play a round of cricket, but he sure could run! I would like to see more people that age back home still be in such good shape. In reference to being "almost" a part of the sports day culture, this year I helped out with the girls' dance, was asked to do simple (yet very important) tallying duties, and was in general treated more like a teacher. In my first year, I was some novelty English-monkey act, being pushed into all the PTA events, getting shooed away when I tried to help clean, and I was periodically ushered into the "honored guests" tent with all the local politicians, the postmaster, the mayor, and the headmasters of the nearby elementaries. I couldn't say much in Japanese besides "I'm going to the supermarket!... I went to the supermarket!", so our interaction consisted of a lot of head-bob/bowing like those little felt birds that "drink" water from a cup. My feelings of being so teacherly and semi-included this year were squashed a few days before the event when I was apologetically uninvited to the staff party, due to the fact that it was at a yakiniku restaurant with an all-meat set course that could not accomodate my difficult, pescatarian self. Enkais are all about being social and relaxing with your colleagues, and as I'm only at the school 2 days a week and am probably more of a curious nuisance than anything else, the tiniest hint of being shunned concerns me. Sure, all the other teachers would be having a great time, with the convenient absence of the lazy ALT? Feeling rather like an outcast, it was a stroke of luck that my other junior high randomly invited me to theirs on that same night, so I got to at least bond with one of my staffs.

A few of my favorite 3rd years: Hayato, Riyu, Shota, and Mao

As for battling the "Jaded/ When I Came to Japan At Least a Million Years Ago..." Syndrome, I love my schools and my town and all the great and tiny things I experience on a daily basis, but I'm often struck by the uniformity of the ALT experience in Japan. Of course everyone wants to feel special and that they are having such a unique experience, but in truth ALTs all across the country have nearly identical situations and nearly identical pitfalls. Were I placed one town over, or one prefecture north, or on the opposite end of the island, I would still have sports day, probably still be amused by the same things, and would still have the same types of kids to adore/abhor for the same reasons I do now. That sameness is what makes Japanese schools so different from the school system in the US, but also make the individual impact seem insignificant. Even that vicious thought cycle in itself is pandemic, but a proud-parenting approach seems to work pretty well. Sure, I could be anywhere, but I'm here. Those kids could be any kids at any junior high across the country, marching in just that way, carrying that flag. But, it's my town, and they are my kids, and aren't they adorable?

posted by Raychaa @ 9:44 PM

1 comments:

At 6:13 PM, sojourner incognito said…

Good post.. I really enjoyed reading that.. and you have to know why..

cause I'm yet another ALT, and change the green clothes to blue, and that could have been my school

(although I'm at the starting end of this whole game, and my mouth was hanging open during the first sportsday practise.
"Uhm, are they.. allowed to do that?"
"Human freakin' pyramids! Check it out!"
"Woooow.. this is like.. like military school!")

Japan : SameSame.. but Different.