DANCE, MONKEY, DANCE!!!

So. I had three classes today in a row. I haven’t had three classes in a row since high school. I specifically spaced them out in college so I could mosey around and stare off into space for a good few hours in between. The brain does have a saturation point, you know.

My first class was with the third year students and was composed of 10 girls and 1 poor, little boy who looked lonely and lost and like he is about nine years old. About half the girls were bouncing off the wall and the other half seemed rather exhausted. This class was more what I was expected when I signed up for this job – it is TEAM teaching. The last time I looked up team – it said “two people working together to achieve a common goal.” In this situation the class was broken up into little 5 or 10 minute segments where the teacher and I switched on and off. This gives you time to catch your breath in-between things which is nice.

I did my self-introduction using this cool-super-awesome-nifty projector that displays the photos on little screens IN each student’s desk. For the most part all of them were interested except for this one girl who kept her bag over the screen the entire time, and her head down on her arms. I suspect she might have been dead. There was one girl in the class who was obviously the exuberant student in the class. She had her hand up for every question I asked and was beaming at me the entire time. Despite the fact that I abhorred THAT girl when I was a student, now I thank my lucky stars that they exist. Of course, when I opened the floor up for questions the first thing out of the girl’s mouth was “Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Do you have? Do you have?”

I like these girls though. They are smart and were eager to please. I am realizing now what an utter bitch it is to have to remember people’s names. I used to always inwardly scorn any teacher who would make us play juvenile games like The Name Game, but now I feel bad. I do believe that there is a slight difference though. Remembering names in your own tongue must be easier than grasping 100 names that all sound like sushi. I kid. Some of them sound like Mitsubishi too.

The one boy in this class is unbelievably shy. Since there was pair work involved today and the class was uneven I worked with him and was pleased to see that his pronunciation was fairly good. The quiet kids are so sweet when you talk to them one on one.

The class directly after that was not what I was expecting. Instead of being blessed with marvelous technology like TVs in the tabletops and vending machines under the desk, I was thrown into this tiny little class room crammed full of 40 desks unevenly spaced out, and a platform leading up to the chalkboard (an ACTUAL old-fashioned, school-marm’ chalkboard not one of those spiffy magnetic white board, dry erase ones which I was promised would ALWAYS be readily available). “DANCE, DANCE, LITTLE AMERICAN MONKEY” the platform seemed to scream.

I remember when I was little and I actually went out and BOUGHT a chalkboard and a special chalk holder because I used to think writing on chalkboards was the bee’s knees. I was a strange child. Despite years of practice my ‘teacher’ handwriting is atrocious. The kids were fun though. Right in the middle of the classroom was one girl who was my savior and would volunteer for everything I asked –so much to the point that I think I gave her about half a bag of candy, hoping the rewards would spur others into participating. They didn’t. But I think she likes me now.

Basically they are paying me to be puerile and loopy. It’s strange. Since the language barrier is about as wide as the Pacific Ocean I am forced to communicate with ridiculous hand gestures, bizarre contorted rubber faces and strange sound effects all whilst running around like chicken without a head in order to keep the kids’ attention.

I lost all my pride and dignity today. It’s like a right of passage. My face also hurts from smiling so much. I feel the twitching and spasms beginning already.

The girls in this class were more receptive than the boys. They gushed when I brought out Starbucks Barista Bear to chuck at people to get them to participate and gave the mandatory “ooohs” and “ahhhs” when I brought out pictures of my nephew. Right on cue, girls.

However, I’m sure the highlight for all of them was when I almost fell flat on my face after getting faaaaaaaar too excited that someone FINALLY knew where London was. This actually wasn’t entirely an act. After hearing kids flail around and hypothesize that maybe Rome really IS in England and Paris really IS in the United States I was overjoyed when someone finally called out the right answer. So happy I almost pulled a penguin stomach flop.

I had about 5 minutes to get my crap together before the next class. I ran through pretty much the same spiel, only with my photos being far less organized this time. The boys in this class are funny and I foresee them being entertaining to work with. They were more receptive than the girls in this class. I had one boy intercept and dive for a Bear Pass that was specifically directed towards someone else which caused the room to break out into raucous laughter. It was one of those things you had to “be” there for, I suppose.

Another boy even was gutsy enough to call me over and ask me for a piece of candy. It was in English, so I had to comply. After that he called me back and started gesturing with his hands. The middle and ring fingers of both his hands were folded down to join his thumbs, creating two fox-ish looking hand puppets. He then made them kiss. Cue Sting and the Police “Don’t stand…don’t stand…” Maybe it means something else in Japan. I wasn’t exactly sure what to do with this. After class ended he presented me with a huge orange inflated balloon. I have no idea where the hell this thing came from, nor what I was supposed to do with it. But I accepted it anyway and put it under my arm happily before leaving the classroom.

I had the kids do a really simple “Interview the kid sitting next to you” type of thing and then they had to report back to me. One of my questions was, “What did you do last night?” This one kid Ren and his partner stood up. When they got to that question Ren kept on loudly whispering to his friend, “BREASTS. BREASTS.” I suppose he could have been saying, “RESTS. RESTS.” But it sure as hell didn’t sound like it. These kids are going to be amusing. But I may eat my words in a month. See, this is WHY you come to Japan.

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Published:
9.7.06 / 5pm
Category:
classroom antics, what i call life