Patience Is Paramount

Yesterday I started teaching this class how to play a new game. They're learning the names of the colors...



The game is basically a process-of-elimination thing where the kids try to figure out which color they're holding.

Watch for the kid who thinks he's sly and decides to look at his card after I explained pretty clearly what is and isn't allowed.

Dang It If My Neck Ain't All Sunburned Now

Mid-week holidays are so tempting. Last night I had that itch to go out to an izakaya and eat some meat on sticks and drink some beer knowing full well I wouldn't be home at a decent hour.

But mid-week holidays, like today's Green Day, have the power to make you feel like a complete schlub.

If I had gone out last night and gotten into the usual trouble I get into then this beautiful Tuesday would have been a complete waste and I wouldn't have been able to show you the wonderful pictures I took...

Over the course of five hours I walked from my house to Kamiyone Park, then up to Nagata Gorge and back down and around the long way through town and then through some fields and eventually back home.

I met some youngsters who were jumping off that bridge into the river at Yagafuchi Park. Man that looks dangerously fun.

Disposition

When he showed up wearing this shirt again yesterday I laughed even harder than last week.

I have a new student on Tuesday afternoons who comes for a half hour private English lesson.

He's five.

And his mom buys him the coolest clothes.

Welcome To Our House... With Your Host, Mr. Rogers

It would seem that all the time I spend with small children has done something to my default narration voice.

There goes my career in radio.

I just finished doing some straightening up around the ol' homestead and since Reiko's out shopping I figured it was the perfect time to give you a tour of our place.

Mushroom 1968 Day

The same girl who told me I suck last week always wears the greatest shirts.

Here's the one she wore the other day.

The bottom part is the best.

"The front is in the place where it proceeded from this place very much. I live because I like this."

Knock-Knock

I have this one kind of special class of elementary school kids ranging in age from seven to ten.

It's supposed to be an English immersion-style class where we do various free-form activities with the goal being "using" English as opposed to "teaching" it. At least that's the way I approach it since the school gives me no direction whatsoever, so I've made it what I want it to be. When the person who runs the place speaks no English and never comes to watch the actual classes or shows any interest in them besides commenting on what I wear and how much money we're bringing in I just take it as a sign that I'm on my own.

And I take great pride in that.

We do have this great big box of word and picture flashcards so we look at those every day. Verbs, adjectives, nouns, random phrases. We rotate the flashcards every few weeks so the kids can soak in as much English vocabulary as possible.

Some of our recent words include "bottle opener," "Really?" "Not yet," "expensive," "cheap," "bitter," "sweet," "sour," "dangerous" and so on and so forth.

To say that the six kids who take this class regularly are rambunctious would be an understatement, but they have an energy that's geared toward English and show a keen interest in using the language and aren't afraid to test it out even if their usage is completely wrong. That, plus the fact that they actually understand what they're saying, even if it makes no sense, sets them apart from your average Japanese kid.

And I love them for it.

Especially on days like today.

Recently they've taken to calling me "bitter." Mind you, they only know the word "bitter" as meaning the opposite of "sweet," as in, "This fruit is bitter."

The other meaning, the one you use to describe a person who's completely burnt out and had it, is beyond their comprehension right now. But they still find it funny. My facial expressions when they say it might fuel them, too.

They call my co-worker Lori "cheap," trying to be funny and as insulting as a third-grader can get away with when using a foreign language, without ever realizing the implications of what they're really saying.

I figure I'll explain it all to them in due time. Right now I'm just glad they're excited about using the language and thinking about what they're saying.

And so it was today that, in a broad stroke of genius, I introduced the "Knock Knock" joke to them.

They'd been working on some brain teaser puzzles with Lori and seemed a little burned out (bitter, maybe) so I decided to lighten the atmosphere and try something completely out of left field.

This one kid, Masakazu, took the bait. He's in the first grade and speaks better English than most adults around here. Granted, he often gets so excited that he literally falls out of his chair, but he has an infectious enthusiasm for everything that you can't help but laugh with him.

We used the door to the classroom the first time just to get the point across and make it more fun.

"Knock knock," says I, from outside the door, actually knocking on the door for good measure.

Coached by Lori he says, "Who is it?"

"Orange," I replied.

"Orange who?" he asks.

"Orange juice!"

Masakazu laughed wildly as I thought he would. The others kinda groaned and rolled their eyes.

After a few more tries with similarly stupid jokes Masakazu got up the nerve to be the joke teller. So he does this one...

Knock knock.
Who's there?
Mi!
Mi who?
Miklos!

I was just so pleased by his ingenuity and the fact that he was rolling on the floor laughing that I started to howl like a hyena myself.

Then, with a little help, he did this one...

Knock knock.
Who's there?
Toe!
Toe who?
Tofu!

Wild laughter ensued.

At that, the rest of the class perked up and became more interested. Sometimes it takes a little bit to get them warmed up. And who doesn't love tofu?

So then Mami, a second-grader, raises her hand and wants to try.

"Knock knock," she says with a totally serious face as the rest of class quieted down to listen.

"Who is it?" I ask, reflecting on how far this class has come that they're now willing to follow me with this little whimsy.

"You," she says flatly.

"You who?" I ask.

"You suck."

She has no idea what "suck" means beyond what a vacuum cleaner does, and yet she has a command of this language that defies the imagination.