I tell of my day-to-day experiences in a funky Japanese town from my American viewpoint. This blog could also be called 'Bizarro World', 'Notes From Kyushu, a Smaller Island', or 'Teaching English in Japan: Smash Your Ego in 10 Easy Lessons."

Wednesday, November 17, 2004

Arao #2 Middle School

Arao #2 Middle School(Arao Dai Ni Chugakko) is so different from #1 Middle School that I still can't believe they're in the same town. Besides having a third of #1's student population, it also has new facilities, Japanese and western-style toilets(a real luxury in these schools), wood paneling, wood floors and huge chalk boards that are curved slightly inward at the ends. The boards can be raised or lowered to the teacher's liking by a metal bar underneath. Everything in this place is new. Everything works, and people know where everything is. #2 Middle School students don't seem to know how lucky they are. They attend the smallest middle school in the city, have the smallest classes and get personal attention every day. Consequently, their relieved ALT(a.k.a me) can actually remember some of their names.

Every day, at all the schools there is a break period after lunch. After the break period is cleaning time. Everyone cleans, the students, the teachers and even the principal. No one ever complains about or neglects their cleaning, they just do it. Their attitude, however unconscious it may be, always impresses me.
At #1 Middle School, cleaning time was somber. The children would wait for the bells to chime, bow to one another, and cleaning would begin. Some would sweep the cement floors, some would scrub the floors with rags, some would wipe the windows, and so on. No talking is allowed, but at #1 Middle School, they scarcely even made eye contact. It was quite a sobering time.
At #2 Middle School, the loud speakers blast 'Yankee Doodle', followed by some ragtime, followed by Vivaldi's 'Spring', followed by some disco music. As we merrily sweep, dust and wipe away, kids in the halls have relay races to see who can dash its full length the fastest; feet on the wood, hands on the rag, rag on the floor, and butt straight up in the air--go! It's the cutest thing since Hello Kitty. I'll try to get a picture.

Yesterday, I went in to observe the basketball and badminton teams. This is something I never did at #1 Middle School. I always felt like I wanted to leave #1 as soon as school was over. But here, at 'Nichu'(#2), I want to stay longer. Because my classes are smaller, I already recognize students, and so I feel more comfortable. I was surprised to see how good the kids were at bastketball, and to see that it was coed. I was just as surprised to see that the badminton team was not that good, basically hitting shuttle cocks in every direction. I wondered where their coach was.

There was a new student in school today, and the English teacher was assigned to orient him, so I taught my first class 100% alone today. Technically, according to my contract that's never supposed to happen, but I was expecting it anyway eventually, seeing as all the teachers are so busy.
The seventh grade class is only in their first year of English, so I think that class was probably an English blur to them, but luckily we got through it okay, and I think I'm still ultra-cool/weird/creature-from-outer-space-like in their eyes. Just the way I like it. ;)

So maybe, all in all, school is getting easier, except for 'killer Wednesdays'. 'Killer Wednesday' is when I teach six classes in a row to elementary school kids that don't understand me, and, just to be fair, I don't understand them. I converse with teachers all day long without actually understanding a word they say. In fact, I think no actual understanding takes place the entire day. 'Killer Wednesdays' are my 'very unhappy' days.
Good thing they only come on Wednesdays. 'Killer Wednesdays' on any other day just wouldn't be right. Ok, ha ha.

So, I... um... I joined the school tennis team today.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Julie - I really am enjoying what you write.   It just keeps getting better;
beautifully written.  Dad