Undokai! [Sports Day]

It's becoming incredibly difficult to bring myself to add to this blog because there is simply too much to say. As of tomorrow I will have been in Japan for two weeks and I can't make up my mind whether that sounds like too long or too short. The numerous new experiences I've had since arriving makes it feel like I've been here forever, and yet the days seem to fly by...

For now I'll settle with saying a few words about Undokai on Saturday.

All last week, classes at my school were for the most part forgone in order to allow ample time for the students to practice for Undokai. What this meant for me was that my first three days at Yamazaki Junior High were spent mostly sitting outside in the altogether daunting heat and humidity and observing their rehearsals. Whenever my head would start to nod, I would keep myself awake by standing up and walking around or -- if she was anywhere nearby -- asking questions of Mrs. Shimowada concerning what the students were doing. For the most part, I was quite baffled by the strange behavior of the children running about on the sports field. Much of the "rehearsal" consisted of the students miming the sports they would actually be playing on Saturday. At one point, my English teacher leaned over and told me, "Now the students will rehears the game where they push the huge ball." Excited by the prospect of seeing an enormous ball, my eyes perked up and I asked, "Where is the huge ball now?" "Oh!" She replied, "It will be there on Saturday!" Sure enough, three groups of children were running across the field, pretending to push a large ball that wasn't actually there. I managed to stifle a laugh. I told this story to Doug, one of the AETs who has been in Moka for a while. He was unsurprised. "When Japanese rehearse," he said, "they rehearse everything."

Sports Day itself could be summarized most accurately as follows: it was long, and it was warm. It was the day that I learned the Japanese for "hot" -- atsui -- because I heard everyone around me muttering it repeatedly all day as they fanned themselves viciously with pieces of paper and plastic fans. Sitting to the side among the students, I learned that junior high schoolers basically smell the same in every country. The combination of the heat, the humidity, and my inability to comprehend anything that was being said throughout the ceremony led me to doze off. Yet, as soon as this happened, I was awakened by the sound of both my English teachers -- Mrs. Shimowada and Mr. Ishikawa -- coming toward me and shouting, "Meghan Sensei! Please come help us!"

The schedule of the day had come to a track event in which the students were required to run through a sort of obstacle course. At the final stage of the race, they would pick up a card which would give them instructions on how to get the rest of the way to the finish line. It might say something like, "Hop on one leg," or, "Take a female teacher," or, "Ride on a teacher's back." At first the students were too shy to acknowledge my presence and other female teachers got snatched up while I stood by and watched the finish of each race. However, once one student worked up the nerve to grab my hand and run, I became the new favorite. Each time, I sprinted with all I had in me in order to keep up with these junior high boys who run faster than I can see. Still, they seemed to drag me along with them. At the end of four races, the muscles in my legs felt like they had turned into tofu. But at least I was awake again.

The unbearable humidity persisted through the afternoon and the sun continued to scorch the sports field; but as the Sports Day drew near its close, dark clouds began looming in the distance. A young man who was there to see his younger sibling came up to chat with me and said, "It's going to rain tonight." Throughout the entire closing ceremony, thunder boomed and drowned out half of my school principle's speech. And as the students marched off the field, the clouds opened up and it started to pour.

I really love it when it rains here. I don't mind riding my bike in it because the air is still hot and I know that when I get home I can towel off and change my clothes. No problem. And yet, as of a couple days ago, it seems that the weather is beginning to shift into autumn mode. The air is drier and the mornings cooler. I hardly sweat at all on my bike ride to school this morning. Marvelous. Even though I've already grown accustomed to the humidity, I'm looking forward to sweaters and hot tea and early sunsets. When I asked my English Elective class students today what their favorite season was, none of them said Summer. "Too hot," they explained. Most of them said Fall or Winter. I did not tell them this, but they've made me very excited.