If there is anything better than teaching folk dances to a gaggle of elementary kids jacked-up on sugar, I wouldn’t know what it is. I went surfing at Kanehama before that too, and I think I actually got into the good part of a couple of waves. The speed and touching the smooth part of the wave is incredible, too hard to describe.
I had solo classes today. I think all that teacher does (when she manages to make it to school) is yack with the kids in Japanese, which is really a waste. The classes have four or three students each, and with the right instruction they would totally excel. They are bright and want to learn; we did about five pages in each class today, with all English instruction, and they soaked it up. It took them a few minutes to latch on and get into the flow of listening, but they were doing great by the end. I decided that the textbook isn’t that bad as a starting point for the lesson. I just change everything around to make them use their brains. So yeah, with a month left to go I feel like I’m getting into the swing of things. If I were to stay another year I’d want my own classes. I heard a rumor that Michael M.’s English classes get the best scores in the prefecture, because he doesn’t have a Japanese person constantly spoon-feeding his students.
I also got to do Folkdance Fun with all of the elementary kids. During the 感想 (when students share their impression of the activity) they all said they want to do it every week during recess. I’ll have them contra dancing in no time! Cute video clips to come.
Dear president Bush,
I’m Japanese. My name is Yuuya. My favorite food is… apple pie. My birthday is September 12th. My constellation is virgo. I’m in ninth grade. I live in Nakano now, tel# 0194-55-1234. Good luck! If you are tired, please eat a sweet pudding. If you are OK, I would like to go to your villa. Please write back if you have time.
遠足 【えんそく】 (n) trip; hike; picnic;
If my four schools are in a contest for my affection, I think Yamato (my tiny school) is the only one that knows about it. I like all of my schools, and have a good time at all of them, but I’m totally in love with Yamato. The 8th and 9th graders are in Tokyo on their school trip this week, so I was invited to do “ensoku” with the 7th graders. We rode bikes about twelve km to Ohno, played nine holes of park golf (like golf+croquet, a primarily octogenarian sport), learned Go Fish in English, did somersaults down a hill, pet baby goats, ate curry for lunch, then rode back. There were three students, two teachers, the principal, and myself on this trip. It was a beautiful day for a bike ride, sunny and breezy. Oh yeah, I won at golf! 42/par 33, beginner’s luck. There were even prizes; I won some chocolate-filled pretzel things.
After the ride back I finished off the day playing with the elemantary kids outside for an hour.
So yeah, the teaching life is rough here in Iwate…
god kids are great
i laughed so hard with a 7-year-old today
she had taped translucent blue plastic over her eyes, and was pretending to swim, and the gym was the ocean
then she taped it over her mouth, and i said “but you can’t see out of your mouth!”
she laughed at me, but it came out like a kazoo buzz
which made us laugh ten times harder
then we took turns singing into it
god kids are great
I had an intense nap dream…
A little girl and her caretaker were on a stage with black curtains. The caretaker had a bag of groceries, and was trying to get the little girl’s attention with each thing. The little girl didn’t care about anything, though, and was playing her caretaker’s insecurities like a record. Until, of course, the corn starch was pulled out of the bag. Then the girl wanted it like a crackhead would want crack, she wanted to mix it with water and play with it (wouldn’t we all), but the caretaker, now that she had the upper hand, just teased the little girl.
A boy of second or third grade age has decided that becoming an alcoholic will enhance his decision to drop out of school. He has a six-pack of beer.
I am playing with the corn-starch play-dough, and find a human finger-bone inside, and pull it out, slowly.