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I had my first elementary school visit last Friday. Not much to say about it. The school itself is a lot different from jr. high. The kids don't have to wear uniforms, and there are a lot more grades. The teachers room was dead. I never heard the phone ring, and there were only 1 or 2 teachers. Almost all the teachers had a homeroom, so lunch was very quiet (teachers eat with their homeroom class). My previous kyoto-sensei was my assistant. We taught 3, 6th grade classes. I showed them lots of photos, spoke a little Japanese, asked them what foods they liked, and sang the national anthem. The last ten minutes were for the students to draw a picture of me and write comments or questions about the class. A short, but exhausting day. On a totally unrelated note, let's talk about guns. In case you didn't know, Japan has very strict rules about guns. Very few people In Japan are allowed to own guns (thus the knife problems). But there are many gun shops, which sell fake, yet realistic-looking guns. I have seen a few here and there, but have never gone inside. The other day while my friend Sally and I were biking home, we stopped at a light. A guy in a van honked at us. He leaned out the window and yelled, "hello." This wasn't all that extraordinary, except for the fact that he was waving a huge gun. I presume that it was fake, but it was a weird thing for someone to do. On another unrelated subject, I attended a 10 km race on Sun. It was in Ikaho, a famous resort area in Gunma. There were only about 200 people who participated, because there was a marathon in Matsuida where all the participants dressed up in warrior costumes. Anyway, I went with Mike and his running club friends. Nothing particularly eventful happened except that my present kyoto-sensei ran in the race. I just wonder if the states has races like the ones in Gunma. I guess 10 km isn't all that tough for runners, but the courses are brutal. This one was in the mountains. Part of it was even over a hiking trail. Everyone said that it was hard to walk that part, running it was near impossible. There were many signs along the way warning runners of possible slides. So I am curious to know if American races can be just as difficult (Uncle John? Bob?). The night before the race Mike decided that we should hang out with his neighbors. So off we went to bask in the Japanese hospitality of his friends. The neighbors didn't mind it. They have been entertaining the gaijin in his town for years. I was even invited to stop by anytime, regardless of whether or not I was with Mike. The house was about 90 years old, but seemed even older. The house was almost completely wooden. The ceiling was just high enough so I wouldn't bump my head. But I still had to duck because the wood beams across the ceiling were about eye level. So it was kind of like entering a midget's house. There was a 2nd floor that was accessed by a ladder, not stairs. The house creaked and moaned. It was very cluttered with the kotatsu, family shrine, and various other Japanese household items. Mike said that it was a samurai family. Well, the wife was just as old fashioned as the house. As soon as we sat down she brought out beer for us to drink. This was followed by course after course of yummy, yet extremely salty food. She made gyoza, salad, gobo and beef, sushi rice things, yaki soba, bread, and fruit. After we'd eaten all we could , she wrapped up a bunch of it and made us take it home with us. The wife kept apologizing for the appearance of the house and how salty the food was. Most of the conversation was in Japanese, but she was still eager to throw in all the English words she could. A terrific time all in all. Valerie Straayer |