Home > I Am a Japanese School Teacher > Requiem For a Legacy, Part 2

Requiem For a Legacy, Part 2

I should explain that I’d been in a bad mood pretty much all week. I won’t get into why, but I’ll just say I had trangressed above and beyond the limits of any Xanga/Live Journal angst. No! I’d ventured into true ANGST! territory. Linkin Park would have taken one look at me and said, “Wow! Even we can’t out-ANGST! him.” It was that bad.

If you saw Spiderman 2, you know that everything is going the wrong way for Peter Parker, and he just doesn’t feel like being Spiderman anymore. He goes into a personal funk, and as a result, loses his powers. I think something like that happened for me and my Kancho Sense™ and Dodgedick Sense™ With my ANGST!-y apathy reaching astronomical levels, I just didn’t have the heart for dick/ass preservation. This would be my downfall.

So without my senses, wounded and vulnerable, I went to the ichinensei class.

I should explain another interesting quirk of the Japanese school system. Their final exams actually occur well before the end of the term. During that time after the tests, the teachers try to hold serious classes with instruction. However, this is also immediately before a vacation, and none of the material they’re covering will be on any kind of test. The students know this. Of course they don’t want to pay attention, and are already forgetting what little they did learn. This is how I found the ichinensei that day. I was supposed to do Daily Questions…circulate around the classroom asking each student a simple question. I came to one boy in the second row and asked, “What do you have for breakfast?” “No.” he responds.


Note to Self: next year, institute the “English Mallet of Justice.” Anytime you ask a question and get, “Goodbye!” or “No!” or “Go to hell!” as a response, whip out the Mallet and dispense swift, extremely prejudiced Justice. It’s called tough love, babies.

I told him to try again. “No breakfast,” he said this time. Well, closer. I finally got, “I don’t have breakfast,” out of him and moved on. “How’s the weather today?” I asked the next boy. “Shining Moon!” he replied. I still can’t even begin to comprehend that one. I told him to try again. “Golden Moon!” he said this time, now pointing up at the sun. Getting closer, I suppose, but that is not the moon! Keep in mind that the word I was looking for was “sunny.”

I moved onto the next row, a girls’ row. Breasts Girl was up. “How many comic books do you have?” I asked. “One million,” she said in Japanese. I tell her to say “one million” in English, but she said that was too hard. So I suggested she use a lower number, like 4 or 5. “How many comic books do you have?” I asked again.

“Penis,” she replied. Great, you have penis comic books.

I told her to try again, but use a number this time. “How many comic books do you have?”

“Breasts!” She’s baaaaaaaack.

I got through the Daily Questions and moved onto the main content of the class. While the teacher was explaining grammar, I did something I rarely do in class. I sat down. Yes, my ass STILL hurt from the previous missed kancho. That sure was the Kancho to Rule Them All. I’m certain my forefathers felt that shit. Somewhere in history, Abraham Lincoln gets up, takes the podium, and says, “Four score and seven – OW!! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!”

Class eventually ended relatively incident-free, but I was still too deeply immersed in my ANGST! to notice or care that my two vital senses were down. The chimes rang, and with my defenses still down many other ichinensei now flooded into the room.

To Be Continued…

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