A Day in the Life

We'll start with the one bad thing that happened today, and work our way up to the good things. This also happens to be chronological. First period, the schedule had a mystery block for the 2nd and 3rd graders at the junior high school. I only understood the word "guidance" in the label, so I asked what was going on. I was told that various subjects were offering  a special, or "select" course offering, which 2nd and 3rd grade students could take to learn a bit more about that subject. The subjects offered this year were music, Japanese, industrial arts, and I think home-making. The two English teachers had discussed the option of a "select" English class, maybe showing some movies, doing some fun activities, but neither one had the time for it. And of course, no one bothered to ask me.
This really burns me. I WASN'T EVEN APPROACHED ABOUT THIS CLASS. NO ONE EVEN CONSIDERED MENTIONING IT TO ME, AND I WOULD HAVE LOVED TO DO IT!!!!!! Man. So I had a very indirect, passive aggressive talk with Ms. Nakamura, basically pleading to be told about everything English-related, stressing my language barrier and desire to help. The thing about Ms. Nakamura: she's a great teacher and works very hard, but she's not a team player. And I need her to recognize that I'm part of the team, especially if I'm to do my job well.

But it gets better from here. There was a visiting student today, 15-year-old Joy from Portland, Oregon, whose parents were both born in Japan and whose mother is actually from Nishihara. She spent two days with the students, and I got to speak English with a native speaker (a rarity in Nishihara)! She was very sweet, and much more outgoing and confident than I was at 15, and she spoke Japanese, so she got along great at the school. We watched the students practice for Sports Day, which included practicing relay-races, choreographed dances, etc. I finally couldn't help myself, and asked if I could join in their dance, so I spent a good 30 minutes mimicking the dance moves as best I could, and fooling most people into thinking I knew what I was doing. These are the songs I'm going to get to participate in: Love Revolution 21, by Morning Musume, and Onara Hazukashikunai, (up to 3:20) (the second song translates into "Farts are not Shameful"). Both are fun, and the girls are pretty pumped about it, and certainly tickled that I'm joining them.

Then school ended, and I went home. As I got there, I noticed a small boy, my neighbor's 6-year-old grandson, standing in my back yard, picking some red berries from a bush/vine clump. I said hi and went to look at what he was picking.

 I didn't even realize there were pick-able berries in my yard until I saw him picking and eating them. Most of them he was pocketing. He's seen and picked these berries before around his house, so he seemed to know what he was doing. He also seemed to have no reservations about picking them from my yard. Of course, I could hardly hold a grudge, since I never would have known about them if he hadn't been picking them. They're good. Not as sweet as most berries, and strange at first, but good nonetheless. I love surprises like this!

On the left is the wall of the garden.

Then I went to walk Zuma. There is a magical garden that I walk past everyday. It's quite large, flanking a small driveway (more for show than for cars), and each side easily covers the same area as my house. There are flowers and fruits and vegetables scattered about in no discernible pattern, creating an overall wondrous effect. The front is edged by a wall that meets the street. The plants flower in stages, and I've been admiring them since March. A few days ago, the pink flower bushes lining the driveway burst into full bloom, then died off. This garden must be full of hidden gems!

It happened that this time, the obachan (old lady, lit. "grandmother") who tends this magical place was out working, right on the edge. She saw me and waved me in. She began speaking a lot of Japanese, and though her speech was very clear for someone her age, much of what she said went over my head. But I understood some:

    Come come you work at the junior high school oh yes yes here take some flowers (cuts flowers and hands them to me) all you want tie your dog up right here (emphatically patting a short tree) how about some pink ones here take these two come on but talk to Shoichiro he's lived in America for two years I'll get him stay right there (goes inside and comes out with her grandson) he speaks English you should take some strawberries Shoichiro go get some clean newspaper I'll get you some blue flowers here hold the newspaper like this (she made a makeshift strawberry-holder) take lots here here there are lots...

You get the idea.

The bundle.

So I got to pick strawberries for the first time! Meanwhile I chatted briefly with her grandson, who indeed spoke some English. He looked even more confused than I was at the whole situation, but we both made the best of it and he helped me pick strawberries. Meanwhile, the obachan cut more flowers and handed them to me. I wrapped them all up as best I could in the newspaper, and with one arm full of flowers and fruit, and the other holding Zuma's leash, I left the premises.

The flowers, after I arranged them.

The strawberries, before I ate them.

After all this, I spent a quiet Friday evening at home, cooking spinach and sweet potatoes (both gifts from another Japanese gardening friend), watching the Daily Show and reading fairy tales for potential material for my adult English conversation class.

Strange to say, but it felt like a normal day.