The First Goodbye

It's done. After watching some students receive prizes for sporting and building achievements, and listening to the Principal drone on for ten minutes about the usual gumph, I was called to the stage. There was a sense of deja vu about the whole thing, since Mrs Templemarsh was standing beside me, as she had been when I gave my introductory speech three years ago. The school was different, and we were on the opposite side of the room, but there had been an awards ceremony then too, and the room was hot and the students were trying not to fall asleep.

In spite of myself, I could feel myself welling up when she announced me, informing the students that I was leaving after three years. I walked over to the stage, climbed the steps, bowed to the flag professional-style, then went to the podium. It went okay. I messed up a couple of times, partly from lack of practice, but mostly because my voice had gone all warbly. I didn't expect to be sad, and I didn't feel sad on the surface, but deep down some emotions must have been stirring. Like when Amy meets Rory again and starts crying though she doesn't know why.

I'm glad it's over. Still, I'm going to miss some of these students.

Not this crap again

So Mountaincastle-sensei, head of English at Kagikou, comes up to me this morning and tells me I have to give my goodbye speech to the entire 900-strong student body tomorrow morning. Yeah, thanks for the heads up. It's more notice than I got when I first came here, however, and had to introduce myself in the same fashion, back in the Higashi Kougyou days. The nerves haven't gone, though, despite having won a contest in the interim where I had to give a speech in Japanese for seven minutes. This should be a breeze in comparison.

Will report back tomorrow if I survive.

Enforced applause

This is my last week of teaching. Probably. Things are never 100%, and there may be a random class or two after exams that I'm asked to do. But basically it's my last week. Since I'm not needed (or wanted, rather) at my scheduled classes at Kagikou tomorrow or Thursday, I only have one more day of teaching. Probably. And one of the classes on Friday was moved to today, so I only have one more class before the end. Again, probably.

In my classes with my supervisor, Mrs. Mountainbase, she's announced to the students at the end of the lesson that it's their last one with me, and asked me to say something to the students. Yesterday I wasn't prepared for it and ended up waffling, and I'm not sure the students understood much of it. She had to tell them to applaud afterwards. Today I expressed myself more clearly, and managed to get them to applaud of their own free will. I was actually starting to well up towards the end of the spiel. Then Mrs. Mountainbase got the class leader to stand up and say something. All he could manage was, "I am happy." which I could take offense at, but I'm sure he meant he was happy to have had the chance to experience J-time every Tuesday and would be sad to say goodbye. Some of the girls chased me out the room to say goodbye after class, which was touching.

In other news, in a class I was in this morning, the homeroom teacher came in to take one of the students away (apparently to talk about a bullying issue). This teacher, Mr Ricefieldnorth, is perhaps the most intimidating-looking in the school. He has the body of the Hulk and looks like a yakuza enforcer. He came into the class and spotted one of the students from the Judo club, which he coaches (probably because there's no sumo club at the school), with his head down on the desk, apparently sleeping. He walked quietly over to him and slammed a rolled-up notebook down on the boy's desk so the sound startled the whole class. The boy lifted his head up in a daze, then the Mr Ricefieldnorth did it again. Perhaps he didn't think the boy looked alert enough already. In the meantime, the JTE and I just hung around the blackboard awkwardly. The atmosphere of the class had been quite jovial up to that point. After Mr Ricefieldnorth was apparently satisfied with the judo boy's state of wakefulness, he called the boy he had actually come to see, and they both left.

Even here, at the end, I'm having new experiences. Good times.

Poke Her Face

Saturday was Ingrid's Birthday Party. She holds a party every year and invites her bar regulars, which is a big mix of Japanese and members of the foreigner community. It's held at a bar round the corner from her's (one that has more space) and for your entrance fee (well, it beats having to choose a birthday present) there's a lot of buffet food to help yourself too. Emily and I didn't have very big appetites, however, as we had been invited to sing - along with many others - a song for the occasion, and were nervous about. Most people use the karaoke machine, but some bring along instruments and play. Emily had the idea of doing Lady Gaga's Poker Face acoustic version on piano, which I thought was a great idea. Ingrid's a big Gaga fan.

Emily has an electric piano at her place, and we practiced a few times there and once at the bar, trying to get the various vocal flourishes right. We'd got it down pretty well before we left for the party, but of course nerves kicked in in front of a busy room of people, and I forgot what the hell I was doing a couple of times. It didn't help that the atmosphere wasn't the best for any kind of performance. There wasn't nearly enough space for everyone to be sitting down to a table, so no one was settled and there was a lot of chatter. It wasn't too bad, however (at least I hope it wasn't). I know it can't have been as bad as some of the later efforts at any rate. The gruff Texan voice of Azart the Young on a couple of Beatles tracks was appreciated by those with taste, but wasted on the majority of the noisy crowd. Only Prickles was able to bellow melodically over the din of the guests to the delight of us, his juniors.

On Sunday, I was tired and didn't leave the house once (win!) and ended up sleeping through most of the afternoon. The rest of the day was mostly spent (in defiance of the fact that I am NOT a 14-year-old girl) working on a scrapbook, the only way I know to rid myself of the numerous ticket stubs, tourist information pamphlets and other bits and bobs I have accumulated over the last three years. Yesterday I drove myself mad trying to arrange a drawful of crap into groups according to when I got them. I finished the job eventually, but didn't get round to any glueing, which has to be the most fun part of the thing. Maybe I'll get round to it today.

Into the Dragon's Den

Last night, seven knights rode out to find their fortune. This is their story.

There is a beast that takes its lifeblood from the Japanese people. The monster tempts the vulnerable with promises of wealth, and then drains its victims dry. This creature is so cunning that it has insinuated itself into every city, into every town, and onto every highway in the country. Living here, one becomes so accustomed to being around it that you can easily forget it's even there. Last night, we decreed, "No longer."

It was Jedd the Bold who first suggested we try to face the beast. For three years many of us had been living around it, but few had dared approach. When the proposal was made, many brave and gallant men balked at the notion. The danger was too much, and the potential for loss was too high. But then there were the seven. With Jedd agreed to go Joff the Wise. When younger warriors hesitated, Job the Ballsy stepped forward as well. Responding to the call, Battrick the Kindhearted joined the fellowship. I, Jamm the Curious, answered thereafter, not wishing to be deprived of the glory that was promised. Thereafter Azart the Young became one of the fellows, youthful and eager to prove himself. Finally came Gris the Elder, known to his fellow paladins as 'Prickles' for his misanthropic nature, who joined the company to regain his lost honour.

At the seventh hour, our party gathered, and amidst a storm of high winds and torrential rain, we feasted on meats and bread to build our strength for the task at hand. When all were ready, we set off into the darkness to seek our fortune.

How merry we all were then! How little did we know our peril!


As we approached the lair of the beast and passed its threshold, our ears were assaulted by a thousand angry sounds. The distinctive clang of metal on metal was the first sign that we were not the only warriors to brave this task tonight. We took our places among the others.

The monster, that calls itself "Pachinko", takes on many forms, and uses these forms to tempt every sort of innocent citizen into gambling away their livelihoods. It was with trepidation that I sat down to my place beside Joff the Wise in an area where the tendrils of the beast had taken a distinctly nautical identity.

 Joff knew some of the creature's secrets, and explained that with careful rotation of a handle, we could control the speed of a large number of small silver balls within our contraption. If we were skilled, or lucky, we could strike the creature at its heart, forcing it to "spin" and reveal more of itself. If it was forced into revealing three identical forms, it would be relinquished of a large quantity of silver balls and with them, the hopes and dreams of a hundred brave soldiers who had gone before. That, simple as it seemed, was our task.

The creature would not give us access to any balls initially, however, without us first having to give something of ourselves. Worried about the precedent, I took gold from my coin purse and gave it to the machine. Despite my best efforts, I was soon forced to give up more of my wealth because despite being able to make the beast spin many times, he refused to show the same three forms. Many times he screamed out, "Reach!", as two forms had aligned and waited only for the third to reveal itself. Disappointment grew to frustration when my pairs of manatees or king crabs lined up two in row, then were joined by a shrimp, or an octopus.

Many of my fellow warriors faced similar fates. Prickles had mixed fortunes that turned sour when he lost all he had - enough for ale, weed and songs for two nights at least.

Battrick the Kindhearted, too, soon lost all he had, and resorted to taking debt from Joff, who had been a little more successful. I am ashamed to say that the temptation of wealth the beast promised was too much for me, and when my own coin ran out I ran out into the rain to draw more to feed the beast.

When I returned, I had somewhat better luck. I tried a different contraption to the one I had begun on. Finally, the beast showed its three identical forms, and I was rewarded with a message - "Super Lucky!". My wits, already befuddled with the noise and the stench of a hundred cigarettes, were further confounded by three sea dwelling creatures racing across a beach.

The outcome the race seemed uncertain, or perhaps irrelevant, as later a maiden - perhaps a mermaid of legend - appeared and was courted romantically by a yellow fish.

I had heard rumour that once one has attacked the beast in this way, it becomes weakened and subsequently more succeptible to further attacks. Indeed, a flap began to open and close near the beast's centre, which allowed more attacks to be successful. However, I was not so lucky in persuading the beast to line up three identical forms again. After many spins and many more "Reach!" moments, my silver balls, including those I had won from the monster, were back inside it.

But my news is not all of woe. There were those among us who, through their courage and wits, seemed to tame the beast like a cur. Jedd the Bold, who had organised our sortie, had already amassed quite a collection by the time I surrendered. The spoils of his campaign were placed behind him by servants of the beast, those who feign friendship but truly desire only the beast's final victory. 

Job the Ballsy, too, had managed to collect a respectable sum at his own place, and could return to his home with no stains on his honour.

However, it was Azart the Young who won the day for our fellowship. With an iron will hardened by years of compulsory dance lessons, and a dexterity of wrist tempered by the birthing of a hundred calfs in his native Texas, Azart kept his nerve to encounter "Super Lucky" moment after "Super Lucky" moment.

Soon, he was rewarded not only with a vision of mermaid, but with one of real, live princess of a far-away island country. She sang to him of her joy and gratitude in a voice so sweet that I, and Battrick beside me, could not help but shed a tear.

Azart's luck held out, and his princess visited him many times. However, at long last both his and Jedd's luck ran out, and the servants of the beast began to circle. They wished Jedd to use his newly-won hoard to win even more, but Jedd was wise, and stern. He would not allow the quest to have been for naught. Azart followed his example and instead demanded that the servants count his prizes and give him his due. They piled his treasure chests on a cart drawn by a mule, and he was taken to the counting area.

Here the balls were placed into another devilish contraption, and their number was recorded on parchment in the form of a bond. With this bond, the beast's true treasure could be recovered. We traversed the lair to meet more servants, here to trade a small portion of the winnings into sweetmeats, and then receive magical tokens for the remainder. We were then directed towards the darkest part of the beast's domain. As we looked upon the windows behind which hid our goal, uncertainty rose in our hearts. The heart of Azart did now waver, however, and he demanded his due from whatever lay behind. Riches the possibility of which neither I, nor Battrick, Prickles or even Joff were permiited even to dream of, were bestowed upon Azart then. Jedd and Job followed, and the glory and honour that shone out from them seemed to pass through the whole group and raise our spirits, even those of us who had lost much. We were all victorious in that moment, all kings of men. With joy and celebration did we march out of the lair of the beast - some more war-weary than others, but none with deep regret.

Our quest is over now, and I can leave this land knowing that the beast cannot do as it would without impugnity. It is not defeated, but it has tasted pain and for now, that it enough.

First contact

I emailed my successor today. Maybe now it'll click in my head that I'm really leaving and need to actually start tidying and packing.

White Fever

Last period I played Guess Who with the students. Rather than being original and using celebrity pictures to play, two years ago I scanned the cards from the board game and made 30 copies, then designed a sheet where students could cross out the wrong answers on a grid rather than messing up my nice coloured printouts. I make one student choose one of the pictures and have the other students ask questions and guess their identity. Usually the student who guesses correctly gets to choose next.

This time I brought some candies to add incentive to the game - whoever could give the correct answer the fastest would get one. However, this added a new problem - they started guessing when there were still three or four people it could be. This made the last stage of the game a bit of a farce. So I suggested to the teacher that we introduce a "batsu" (forfeit) for those who guessed wrongly. I suggested that the lively joker of a student who was currently "it" choose the nature of the batsu. After a while it was decided that if you guessed the wrong person, you would have to do this kind of pose:

As it turned out, a rather adorable, awkward sort of boy guessed the wrong answer. While it was clear to everyone sitting around the boy who was "it" that he had chosen Philippe because he resembled a "taco" (octopus), this awkward boy thought it was Herman. When called upon to do the batsu, instead of doing the UFO pose (above) he did this:

                                              

He also cried out something that, to the rest of the students and I, sounded like "White fever!" but was later confirmed to be "Night fever." As a result of this odd display, the boy who was "it" because non-functional with laughter, as did most of the rest of the class.