Finally, what you've all been waiting for (............kancho)
For the past fortnight I visited three local elementary schools with three other AETs. We have this little 4-way-team-teaching gig, just for variety I guess. As with any situation, there are positives and negatives.
The great thing about teaching at a shogakko is that the kids are enthusiastic. They actually want to participate. You can do games and chants and ridiculous songs and they'll love it. They're frightfully easy to entertain, because they already think that gaijin are funny-looking. When you ask a question in class, they're falling over each other to answer. This is a far cry from my Junior High students, who look like they're afraid to open their mouths in case a tarantula crawls in there or something.
Another upside is the physicality. I have no idea how to write this without sounding like a paedophile. But we're allowed to touch the students here. By that I mean, hug them, pick them up, hold their hand, play with them. Teachers in Australia don't have that privelege. And tragically, I'm so starved for affection here that being swamped by affectionate children felt wonderful. I also discovered I can carry five 10-year-olds at once and still walk. They just sort of all throw themselves as you as you walk past, grabbing anything they can to try to stick on. I felt like a giant child-gathering katamari.
The downside, of course, is the physicality. I mean, the real physicality. I know you've all been waiting and praying for the day when I'd come limping home and tell you I'd been rectally violated by japanese children. Well, my friends, it happened. I got kancho'D. In my first school, I received no less than 32 kancho. Thankfully, most of them were from little girls. Boys are violent - they run past, make a jab that would puncture a lung, then run for the hills. Girls just do a gentle little prod... you can almost hear that classic female japanese 'fuuuuuuuuu' as they do it. Still, I feel like I got off easy - one of the other AETs, a huge African guy, had to put up with a gaggle of students following him around just feeling his buttocks.
My second school awarded me only a dozen kancho, but terrible conversation. The students are well-behaved in class, but somewhat horrendous outside the classroom. They managed to corner the aforementioned African AET, and began asking him questions that made me blush. When they asked him if he was married, and if he had children, and how exactly he'd made those children, he made a great show of not understanding Japanese. This only made them more resourceful, prompting the boys to use extravagant hand gestures to communicate their meaning. When that didn't work, they drew diagrams. Still the AET is pretending he has no idea what they're talking about. 'What's that? Oh I know, it's a squid right? No? Oh sorry, it's a worm right?'. Meanwhile I'm standing back with my mouth agape at what these kids have deemed an appropriate topic of conversation, and even moreso, that the AET is so used to this sort of thing that it's not even remotely shocking to him.
In my third school, I only received two kancho. Finally, I thought, a school in which the students respect the sanctity of the pants. Not so. The game at this shogakko seemed to be trying to actually climb into my clothes. Any time they got near me the kids were all up in there, putting their hands and arms and trying their darnedest to put their heads in too, in my pant-legs or sleeves or up my shirt or down my top. What's going on there?
The grandest surprise though, was a sweet little 7-year-old. Out on the playground, where the lone AET is the most vulnerable, he came bounding over to me, looked up with that grin that radiates the sweet innocence of childhood, and greeted me with his best 'hello'.
'Hello', I responded, returning his smile. He looked at me adoringly for a second, and then some evil glint must've entered that kid's eye but I didn't see it. I just felt it. Felt it as he reached up with both hands, grabbed my boobs, then threw his arms in the air and ran away yahoo-ing like a cartoon character.
... what on EARTH was that? I just stood there, dumbstruck, watching his tiny little feet tearing a cloud of dust across the playground. Was it my imagination or had a 7-year-old really just tonked my knockers? WTG JAPAN, I WANT MY SECURITY DEPOSIT BACK.
The great thing about teaching at a shogakko is that the kids are enthusiastic. They actually want to participate. You can do games and chants and ridiculous songs and they'll love it. They're frightfully easy to entertain, because they already think that gaijin are funny-looking. When you ask a question in class, they're falling over each other to answer. This is a far cry from my Junior High students, who look like they're afraid to open their mouths in case a tarantula crawls in there or something.
Another upside is the physicality. I have no idea how to write this without sounding like a paedophile. But we're allowed to touch the students here. By that I mean, hug them, pick them up, hold their hand, play with them. Teachers in Australia don't have that privelege. And tragically, I'm so starved for affection here that being swamped by affectionate children felt wonderful. I also discovered I can carry five 10-year-olds at once and still walk. They just sort of all throw themselves as you as you walk past, grabbing anything they can to try to stick on. I felt like a giant child-gathering katamari.
The downside, of course, is the physicality. I mean, the real physicality. I know you've all been waiting and praying for the day when I'd come limping home and tell you I'd been rectally violated by japanese children. Well, my friends, it happened. I got kancho'D. In my first school, I received no less than 32 kancho. Thankfully, most of them were from little girls. Boys are violent - they run past, make a jab that would puncture a lung, then run for the hills. Girls just do a gentle little prod... you can almost hear that classic female japanese 'fuuuuuuuuu' as they do it. Still, I feel like I got off easy - one of the other AETs, a huge African guy, had to put up with a gaggle of students following him around just feeling his buttocks.
My second school awarded me only a dozen kancho, but terrible conversation. The students are well-behaved in class, but somewhat horrendous outside the classroom. They managed to corner the aforementioned African AET, and began asking him questions that made me blush. When they asked him if he was married, and if he had children, and how exactly he'd made those children, he made a great show of not understanding Japanese. This only made them more resourceful, prompting the boys to use extravagant hand gestures to communicate their meaning. When that didn't work, they drew diagrams. Still the AET is pretending he has no idea what they're talking about. 'What's that? Oh I know, it's a squid right? No? Oh sorry, it's a worm right?'. Meanwhile I'm standing back with my mouth agape at what these kids have deemed an appropriate topic of conversation, and even moreso, that the AET is so used to this sort of thing that it's not even remotely shocking to him.
In my third school, I only received two kancho. Finally, I thought, a school in which the students respect the sanctity of the pants. Not so. The game at this shogakko seemed to be trying to actually climb into my clothes. Any time they got near me the kids were all up in there, putting their hands and arms and trying their darnedest to put their heads in too, in my pant-legs or sleeves or up my shirt or down my top. What's going on there?
The grandest surprise though, was a sweet little 7-year-old. Out on the playground, where the lone AET is the most vulnerable, he came bounding over to me, looked up with that grin that radiates the sweet innocence of childhood, and greeted me with his best 'hello'.
'Hello', I responded, returning his smile. He looked at me adoringly for a second, and then some evil glint must've entered that kid's eye but I didn't see it. I just felt it. Felt it as he reached up with both hands, grabbed my boobs, then threw his arms in the air and ran away yahoo-ing like a cartoon character.
... what on EARTH was that? I just stood there, dumbstruck, watching his tiny little feet tearing a cloud of dust across the playground. Was it my imagination or had a 7-year-old really just tonked my knockers? WTG JAPAN, I WANT MY SECURITY DEPOSIT BACK.
From Zedstar:
Noes! I wanted to be the first to grab your boobies!
Eh... I'm happy being your first kiss.
But still- at least that little kid ran away knowing he'd gotten a prize.
^_~
Posted by Anonymous | 3:37 PM
errr....
^______^;;
They actually sound....... very scary..... T_T Sweet, angelic type of scary........
-Chi
Posted by Anonymous | 12:08 PM
Ha. I believe I am the first to grab your boobies. Who could forget the Musical Hooter game?
Posted by Rachel McKeown | 10:11 PM
yeah, thats like what happens to me on a too often, damn Fri.
*huggles*
I should read this more often.
Miss you heaps!!
Amusing story :)
-Shi Tenshi (i dunno if i have an account but am lazy)
Posted by Anonymous | 2:41 PM
Jesus, those children are out for blood I say! Blood! Or rather, boobage, but either way.
At least you have fun with the kids! To an extent anyway. A 7 year old..That's like..younger than my sister. How odd indeed.
Keep up the wonderful posts, A-chan!
~Brad Jolly (DarkYoshii)
Posted by Anonymous | 6:29 AM