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Hope everyone is enjoying the holiday season! I'm a very happy camper, as Fearless Husband is home safe and sound.
I'll go back and do some catch-up later, but for now, here's an adventure following the Okinawa journey. Maybe I can get Thanksgiving posted before Christmas...we'll see!
When I got home from Okinawa, I was in a huge hurry. Miyuki had asked me, months ago, to visit her school and carve pumpkins with the "culture class." I'd said yes, of course, but when Halloween came and went, I figured it just wasn't going to happen. I was wrong. Miyuki wanted me to come on Friday, November 17th. When I told her I might be late, or might not make it due to my trip to visit Emily -- but perhaps I could find another Navy spouse to go instead -- Miyuki blanched. Turns out teachers must get permission at City Hall to have a "guest teacher" (I thought I was just going to be a class visitor!) and Miyuki had gotten permission for me specifically to come to the class on Friday, November 17th. The parents all knew I was coming, and would blame Miyuki if I didn't show. Miyuki could even lose her job if parents complained! The way the flight/bus schedule worked coming home from Okinawa, I could get back to Sasebo, but just BARELY in time for the planned class visit. Barring a flight delay, I was going to make it -- and Miyuki's relief was HUGE.
Miyuki picked me up at the bus station that afternoon, and took me straight to Hiu Junior High School. The school is very large, with perhaps 3,000 students. There is virtually no parking -- all students walk to school (no school buses), and teachers jockey for the few tiny spaces. Since Miyuki had me with her, she was allowed to park right in front of the school, a privilege which thrilled her. From the outside, the two wide four-story buildings one in front of the other, backed up against the mountainside, are pretty impressive. There is a gym building off to one side and a large, fenced, packed-dirt space spanning the entire building front for various sports. Except for the big, bare sports space, it might be any kind of structure, from a not-very-pretty old hospital to a government administration building. However, once inside the big double doors, it's obviously a school. There is the international school smell of chalk, old linoleum, and sweat, and kids' voices echoing faintly down the halls.
Just inside the door are hundreds of approximately 18 x 18" cubby holes lining the walls. The first set of cubbies have no doors, and hold generic, "one-size-fits-all" rubber slippers, the rest of the cubbies belong to the students and teachers, for their shoes. Yes folks, it's a Japanese school, and EVERYONE changes into slippers to walk around inside. The floors are all wood or linoleum -- no tatami mats here -- but "outside shoes" and their attendant bits of dirt and mud are not allowed into the school. All Japanese school children wear uniforms in junior high and high school. Some elementary schools and kindergartens have uniforms, and even the ones with no uniform require the students to wear little hats in the school color. Normally, the boys at Hui Junior High would be in mandarin-collared black jackets with brass buttons and matching black pants, and the girls would be in navy blue pleated knee-length skirts, navy blue vests and white shirts with Peter Pan collars buttoned right up to the top (this is a little more modern than most schools, where girls usually wear a classic Victorian sailor blouse with the bib on the back and the knotted kerchief in front!) However, this particular day was a special sports day of some sort, so the students were allowed a huge treat--which meant they could wear their matching red, white and blue track suits and blue-trimmed white t-shirts from gym class if they chose to do so.
We went to the teacher's room, where all the teachers have their desks. Other than a hot plate and a small fridge in one corner, the room was wall-to-wall desks. Miyuki is lucky, as she has her desk at one corner of a desk block, so she has a desk to her right and one directly facing, but the aisle on her left. Miyuki has a "homeroom" of about 35 seventh grade students ("ichinensei" -- literally "first year students"), but she is not to keep anything in that room. She has no desk in the classroom, and is expected to stand at a podium all day as she teaches, and not to ever sit except at lunch--something we might expect of college professors, but not usually of American junior high school teachers! Miyuki teaches English, Morals and "International Cultures" class, in addition to her homeroom class. I was introduced to Miyuki's head teacher, a kind gentleman who nevertheless did not rise to meet me, but nodded regally from behind his desk as Miyuki bowed low (as did I, only half a beat behind).
Miyuki took me through the hallways and up several flights of stairs (one building is four stories, one is three, and there are no elevators) and down a breezeway. As we walked, the students we met were obviously very curious about me, and they were all eager to say "Hello! Hello! HELLO!!" and giggle behind their hands when I answered them. Two young women came bounding up to us as we walked, darting in front of us and walking backwards so they could talk to me. "Hello! My name is JUDY!" exclaimed one. "Hello, hello! MY name is Judy!" insisted the other. Miyuki laughed and told me that in English class, she let them pick American names, much as American students have French or Spanish names in their language classes. Our destination was a classroom that was obviously used as some sort of woodworking shop. There were banks of windows on the two long sides of the room, with scarred wooden worktables and wooden stools. Band saws and other power equipment were clustered to one side ,and there was a big trough-style sink.
I'd purchased seven big American-style pumpkins at the base for Miyuki back in October, and she had them waiting in bags. I'd also bought six of the cheap little "pumpkin carving kits" for her, but had told her I would need a bigger knife for cutting the tops off. She'd provided me with a 3" fruit knife...not exactly what I had in mind, but I made it work. The children came in, and automatically divided themselves into six groups at the worktables, a few of them donning aprons brought from home to avoid staining their school clothes -- even a couple of the boys donned aprons, and no one seemed to think twice about a young man in red and white gingham. It surprised me a little, as so much here, especially clothing and toys, is so very gender-specific. Most of the girls clustered at the front table, greeting me over and over ("Hello! Hello! Hello! Hello!") while a few told me their names, and asked me slowly "what is your name?" This is their first year of English instruction, and they don't know many phrases beyond "What is your name?" The boys were more aloof. At one point, there was a knock on the window, and we all turned to look. It was Rumi, the young woman who introduced me to her dead parents! I recognized her, thank goodness, and made a big deal of greeting her by name and talking to her. If she'd had a tail, she would have been wagging it. The whole class looked at her with a new awe and respect, as she not only KNEW the Americaijin, but seemed to be FRIENDS with her! Rumi walked off to class with a little swagger in her step that was lacking before. Hurray, Rumi!!
Miyuki had printed some "classic" Jack o'Lantern faces on white paper, and briefly told the class that they could, if they chose, hold the paper against the pumpkin as a template. I remembered that several times in the past, Miyuki has complained that Japanese students strive so hard for perfection, but often miss out on creativity and experimentation, so when she introduced me, and then translated my simple speech of welcome and instruction, I made sure to tell them that in America, there were many different ways to carve a pumpkin, and they could use the templates or not...and they could come look at the pumpkin I would be carving at the front of the class if they chose. Then I began slicing the tops off the pumpkins and setting the students to scraping the insides clean.
Let me tell you, I've never in my life seen such clean pumpkin hollows. They were so very serious about getting the pumpkin shell as clean and tidy as possible, to please me! The various groups kept bringing me their pumpkins to show me the insides. After the first group was sent back to scrape more, the rest waited to come up to me until they'd scraped the shell smooth and clean as a glass bowl! With each clean, smooth shell, I said "Good job!" or something similar, and the entire group would BEAM, and repeat "goo-du jobu!" to each other on their way back to their seats.
One group was very serious about trying to match one of Miyuki's templates, but the other groups were amazing, trying all sorts of things. Two groups realized I'd finished one face on my pumpkin, and decided to carve a second face on the other side...so they emulated me, but to an extreme! The boys who did multiple faces on one pumpkin made two "right side up" and two "upside down". I'm not sure if that was on purpose or by accident! When I asked them about it, they looked at one another for a moment, then one boy grabbed the pumpkin and showed me one face. "HA!" he cried, as he twisted it to show me another face, right side up. "HA!" a toss and a twist, and another face revealed.
A rhythm developed, and his whole group chanted as he twisted and tossed the Jack o'Lantern. I had them repeat it so I could film it. Too funny! The girls' pumpkin with multiple faces included a cut out "ghost" that could be removed or replaced from the pumpkin, and a "panel" on which they each signed their names in romanji. One girl from this group took the shreddy pumpkin guts and some of the trimmings from carving the various faces, and made me a "pretend" o-nigiri (rice ball) in the shape of a kitty cat, and brought it to me on a tray of newspaper for me. After the pumpkins were carved, we played "Halloween Bingo" where I held up big laminated cards with drawings of witches, ghosts, etc. and called out "three witches" or "one haunted house!" The students repeated each phrase in English as they marked the various images on their photocopied "bingo cards". Then they lined up in front of me, each one saying solemnly "Tu-ri-ku Tu-ree-to!" in exchange for a piece of Halloween candy from the big bag of American chocolates.
A bell rang, and after a chorus of bows, "arigatou gosaimasu" and "bye-bye, bye-bye!" the students scattered. Miyuki asked me to wait while she left briefly, and so I sat. As I waited, students converged on the classroom -- not for a class, but to clean! Japanese schools don't have janitors. Instead, at a certain time each afternoon, the entire student body stops and cleans the school from top to bottom. Students put chairs on desks, others sweep, still others mop, some dust, some use squeegies to clean the windows...it was astonishing! And, they were unsupervised, but still were diligent and hard working!
Afterwards, Miyuki took me to meet her homeroom class, which includes all sorts of activities, such as singing instruction, preparation for various class competitions, and helping students "rate" themselves on how they've done each day and what they should prepare for the next day. Each student has a special notebook in which they write the homework expected for each class each day, upcoming tests, etc. They also rate themselves on how they've done in various areas, such as class participation, discussion, citizenship, teamwork, etc. The rating is not for a grade or for anyone else's eyes, it's completely for personal reasons, to help keep track of where one needs to concentrate and improve -- a circle means "adequate," a circle within the circle means "good," and an X means "needs improvement!" I was fascinated with the books, and asked if I could take a photo of one young lady's pages. An indignant boy immediately insisted to Miyuki that I take a photo of his book as well, as his was "much tidier than hers, and a better example!"
Miyuki offered my pumpkin to the class, for one "lucky student" to take home. Before I could ask how she would decide who got it, she shouted in Japanese, and threw her right hand into the air. The whole class rose as one when she shouted, their right hands flying into the air as well. Several sat down immediately, and Miyuki shouted again, flinging her hand. This happened several times, lightning-fast, with a wave of kids sitting down each time, before I realized what they were doing. It was Ro-Cham-Bo, or "Rock, Paper, Scissors"! When Miyuki tossed a sign into the air, the students who were beaten sat down. The students whose symbols tied or beat Miyuki's continued the game. No one tried to cheat. No one looked to see what others were doing. There were no pauses in the intense rhythm, as kids immediately sat upon losing, disappointed but not angry, eager to see who would win. Very quickly the contestants were narrowed to two besides Miyuki, and she bowed out, allowing the two to "shoot it out" to find the winner. At the end, the whole class applauded, and the two final contestants bowed to one another before sitting, with the winner beaming happily. I wish I'd realized what was happening fast enough to make a video!
I loved every minute of my day with Miyuki at school, and hope to do it again soon. Miyuki gave me a quick ride home, before returning to school to grade papers and work up the next day's lessons. At least this year she is not also coaching badminton after school for two to four hours every evening, and also on Saturday and Sunday--Japanese school is seven days a week! Miyuki gets two Saturdays and two Sundays off each month, and as a result, the other teachers consider her selfish and "not a team player". And parents can call her and ask her to come in early or stay late, or come in on a day off or a holiday, if they don't want their kids at home and underfoot, and Miyuki can't say no. Can you imagine? I hope to have more Japanese school adventures for you this winter.
More soon...as always, click on the photos for more. Here are a couple of bad but funny video clips:
I've talked a lot about my Japanese friend, Miyuki. She's really an amazing person and a great friend. She started out as my "Know your Cho" volunteer, but we really hit it off and became friends almost instantly. We've spent a LOT of time together...she's taken me on several "tours" of Japanese grocery stores, and I've taught her to cook a couple of American dishes. We watch DVDs together with the English subtitles on (it helps her understand what's being said) and we hit the pause a lot so I can explain nuances. We have half-day adventures together quite often, and I'm so grateful to know her!
Miyuki teaches English, Morals and "Cultures of Other Countries" at a local junior high school. She has a "homeroom" of seventh graders (ichinensei--literally "first year students") and supervises them in many activities--for example, she had to coach them in a multi-part song for a singing competition they recently had. She also must supervise a "club activity" after school, as each teacher must. Her "club activity" is badminton--a sport she claims to know nothing about, but she has the help of a student's father, who was a competition player...he takes the bus from Nagasaki every weekend to work with the children. Miyuki's day starts at 8am. Classes are over at 4pm...and she has "one-on-one time" with students who need help with studies or just need to talk. Then from 5pm to 7 or 8pm she supervises badminton. She leaves the school between 8pm and 10pm each weeknight--depending on when the principal leaves. The teachers do not leave until he does. Saturday mornings often have academic classes, and there are "club activities" for four hours on Saturday and again on Sunday. That's right...school is 7 days a week, and even includes a week-long overnight camp every summer, supervised by the teachers. If a "club" is doing particularly well (the Hui Jr. High volleyball team is in the nationals!) they might practice 8 hours a day on weekends! Miyuki told me the other teachers consider her very selfish and "not a team player" because she has insisted on having two Saturdays and two Sundays off out of every month. Today (Sunday), when we parted at 1pm, it was so she could go to the school and spend four hours with her badminton students.
Perhaps 30% of the 7th grade students go from their club activity to cram school until 9 or 10 at night. By 9th grade, Miyuki says 90% or more of the students are in cram school, to get into a good high school. So kids go to school every day, and on weekdays are often not home until 9:30 or 10:00 at night! They choose one club activity...and that's the only one they concentrate on (badminton, volleyball, baseball, music, soccer, drama, etc.) Most do not change from year to year, so their one club activity is their only "hobby" for their entire school career. Miyuki said when she was in school, she played the French horn in the band, and went to cram school three nights a week. So...she played French Horn from 7th grade until graduation, with no other extra-curricular activities! Very different from our "smorgasbord" of kids' activities in the US. And with her crazy schedule, I am thrilled and honored that she chooses to spend her few hours off work with me!
Miyuki's family sends me little dishes all the time--an amazing beef and potato stew with konnyaku noodles (konnyaku is a sweet potato fiber/starch that can be made into all sorts of shapes..it's translucent, makes great noodles, and is completely free of calories!), a plate of six delicately fried little fish her father had just caught that morning, a plate of the freshest sashimi I've ever eaten (squid, an irridescent fish that is not found in the US, a little 'salad' of horse mackerel tossed with bits of fresh ginger and green onions, and a little smear of fresh wasabi), a traditional autumn soup dish called odon (broth, konnyaku noodles tied in bundles, a whole hardboiled egg, a thick slice of daikon radish, and various shapes of fish paste in various flavors--a patty, a cylinder, etc.), and today, a little bowl of nabe. Nabe is basically a soup..but it can be made in a group situation, where a simmering pot of broth is put in the middle of the table over a heat source, and each person puts in different raw ingredients (seafood, meat, veggies). One fishes out what one wants to eat, and at the end of the meal, the now-flavorful broth is shared. Shabu-shabu is a kind of nabe, but the meat is barely swished in the hot broth before being eaten...thus the name is for the sound. Shabu shabu = swish swish, then eat! I was asking about the differences last night, so Miyuki's mom made me a little nabe this morning and sent it to me, warm, via Miyuki at 10am! It mostly looks really delicious, with carrots cut into flower shapes, meatballs, a little Japanese clam, mushrooms, greens, etc. I'm not so sure about the fish tail I see in there...but I'll try it!
I have sent them spaghetti, shepherd's pie, and smoked turkey, and they have been thrilled. We've laughed at how they crave American foods, and I crave the Japanese foods! Turkey is very hard to come by here in Japan...it's sold in pieces, NOT whole, and is very, very expensive. Chicken is the same...rarely sold whole. We discussed holiday meals, and the big "meat" meal for Miyuki and her family is roast chicken at Christmas. (They are Buddhist, not Christian, but more and more Japanese are celebrating Christmas as a gift-giving, family-gathering holiday. It's also two days after the current Emperor's birthday, which is always a national holiday.) I am really excited--I've invited Miyuki and her parents for a traditional Thanksgiving spread at my house, and they are thrilled. It should be fun!
This weekend, I got to spend a little time with Miyuki's parents, and with her sister and brother-in-law and their 18-month-old son. They invited me to join them on a family trip to an onsen--a Japanese traditional bath house. I have to admit, I simply am not confident enough to do the public nakedness thing yet, even with the sexes separated, so I told Miyuki I would love to join them, but I was too embarrassed. She assured me that I could have a private bath if I wanted to...that it was ok. She told me to bring a towel and some face soap, and clean underwear...and laughed when I tentatively suggested a bathing suit.
They picked me up and we drove for about 40 minutes to the onsen. It was on the same grounds as a lovely hotel, with grass-surface tennis courts and a golf course, all overlooking the harbor. The sun was beginning to set, and the light was golden and rich. In front of the onsen was a long, rectangular "pond" about 18" high, with wooden plank seating around the rim, and round stones sticking up out of the bottom surface. It was a traditional footbath, and we all shed our shoes, pulled up pants or skirt hems, and stepped in. The mineral water was hot. REALLY hot! I didn't know if I could take it at first, but got used to it quickly. We nodded and smiled at the others sitting around the tub, each of us gently rubbing our feet over the smooth river stones sticking up from the bottom surface specifically for foot massage. As her parents chatted to the other people, Miyuki told me that the footbath outside and the baths inside were traditionally social gathering places for the Japanese, as they rarely have social events in their own private homes.
After our legs were good and red, we dried off and slipped our shoes back on temporarily to go inside the onsen. Off came the shoes again (of course) and we all padded into the airy reception area. LOTS of people were completely barefoot, so I felt a little better about my habit of wearing sandals. Miyuki's sister, brother-in-law and little nephew had reserved one private room, and I had another one. A silent man handed us each keys, and showed us to a flight of stairs that went outside and down to the building housing the private baths (we got leather slippers to make the trip from building to building). Miyuki showed me my little private room, with sink, bench, shelves for my clothes, a hook for my towel, a teeny closet with a toilet, and the bath....oh, the bath!!
The bath room was stone, with a place outside the tub to shower off (you are expected to be completely clean before getting into the water!) with two stools, two water basins and a hand-held shower head. The bath itself was completely made of stone, with a step inside because it was deep! It was filled to the brim, and when I got in, the displaced water overflowed through a channel at one end of the bath to a drain. If the water in the bath dropped below a certain level, more hot water came in automatically, in a waterfall from a corner opening. The wall along the bath was a block of windows overlooking the harbor, and the flowers on the grounds below, with wooden "wings" to give privacy from the other private room windows, and they slid open completely, to allow the cool breeze and birdsong into the room. The bath itself was big enough that I could sit in water up to my neck, or float stretched out without touching any of the four sides! Again, it was very, very hot. I had to get out twice during my 45 minutes and rinse off with cool water--which I discovered afterwards is also traditional. 
I am not sure if the water was "natural hot spring" heated or not...many onsen in Japan are, due to all the volcanic activity, but I think the ones in and around Sasebo are manually heated. The water is full of minerals, with the percentages posted on the walls (couldn't tell you WHAT minerals, as it was all in Japanese, of course) but it's supposed to be very healthy. My skin does feel good today!
I hope I can get to the same point as the Japanese women, who are oblivious to the differences in the human body. The very young, the very old, the wizened, the stick-thin, the really fat, those with terrible varicose veins, those with big scars or birthmarks--they all bathe together, sitting in the hot water up to their necks and socializing. No one cares how fat or thin or wrinkled or hairy or whatever you are...you're just a human being. The men (from what I'm told) do the same on their side. There is a large indoor bath on each side, which leads to an outdoor bath for each on deck overlooking the harbor. At this onsen, men and women are completely segregated (unless a couple or a family wants to share a private bath) but that is not always the case...some onsen are mixed use, and no one cares.
After I luxuriated in the water and watched the moon rise over the harbor, I got dried off and dressed and headed to the common room to wait for Miyuki and her family. There was a big tatami-floored room for bathers to relax in after their baths, complete with coin-operated massage chairs. It's traditional to drink milk after a bath, but I have no clue why...especially as so many Asians are lactose-intolerant. Odd. I sat on a little outdoor deck and watched the almost-full moon over the harbor as gentle music played softly, then joined Miyuki and family inside. Her parents used the massage chairs briefly, and I enjoyed playing with Miyuki's nephew and getting to know her charming sister and brother-in-law. We had a light supper at the in-house restaurant (I had green tea, edamame, and pink rice studded with tiny azuki beans and bits of octopus--delicious!) before heading home.
Oh..the name of the onsen and hotel was Japanese for peacock, as there are many on the grounds. When I spelled out the hiragana and asked Miyuki for a translation, she said "Ummmm...the bird with fancy wings...a cockroach." Her mother doubled over with laughter in the front seat--she may not have much English, but she knew "cockroach!" Miyuki corrected herself, "oh, not cockroach--peacock!!" and we all had a good laugh. But all the way home, every few minutes, we heard from the front seat "hee hee hee...cocka-roach onsen....cocka-roach hotel...hee hee hee..."
More soon...
My cousin Emiri and her husband are stationed in Okinawa. Emiri's husband was away in Florida doing Secret Squirrel stuff for the Army, so Emiri came to visit me for a few days. For those of you who don't know, I'm the oldest grandchild, and Emiri is one of the youngest. Age-wise, she could be my daughter if I'd started early! But despite the age difference (or maybe because of it!) I really enjoy her company.
Emiri has been in Okinawa for about a year and a half, and she loves it! She started learning Japanese in January, and she puts me to absolute shame. She's not only able to speak a LOT of Japanese, she can read and write in hiragana and katakana, and is learning kanji! She even e-mails her Japanese friends in Japanese on her little Japanese cell phone. She's just amazing!
I went to pick her up in Fukuoka on May 22. I was nervous about driving directions and dealing with parking (I have a parking phobia, dunno why!), so I took the bus. Emiri met me at the International terminal, complete with gifts from Okinawa. It's the Japanese custom to always bring gifts when visiting, and to take gifts home to your friends when you return. Usually, the gifts are something to eat (yeah, just what I need!) and preferably something specific to the area. Em brought me wonderful pineapple pastries and purple sweet potato pastries (both pineapple and purple sweet potatoes are specific to Oki). She even had a gift for my friend Miyuki, as she knew we'd be seeing Miyuki at least once during Em's visit. We took the bus back to Sasebo in the rain, talking nonstop and catching up on life. That evening we spent at home, looking at photos Emiri brought of her birthday with her Japanese friends (amazing..check out her blog at http://emiriinoki.blogspot.com for more!), having a glass of wine, and generally getting to know one another again!
The next day, we headed to Kumamoto by train. We got sort of a late start, but that's par for the course when you get women in our family together, I guess. We might have gotten to Kumamoto earlier, but we both panicked and got off the train one stop too early--I think the station before ours was called Kama-Kumamoto, and we should have waited for just plain Kumamoto. So we waited for the next train, and eventually got to the right place. Once in Kumamoto, we got on the streetcar and headed for Kumamoto Castle. We bought "day passes" on the street car, but it turned out we would've been better off to just get regular tickets, as we ended up not using the streetcar again until the end of the day to get back to the train station. Oh well...hindsight's 20/20!
We walked for a while, and I was beginning to regret the adventure, as it was very humid and sticky. But then the castle grounds and the statue of Kato Kiyomasa appeared ahead, and a cool breeze seemed to hurry us along. From a distance the statue made me smile. The tall commander's hat and bowed legs made the figure look a little like a garden gnome. When we got closer though, we read the plaque, and discovered the figure was the feudal lord who built Kumamoto Castle between 1600 and 1607 A.D. He is sculpted wearing snake-eye patterned armor, a battle surcoat, bellflower patterned footwear, and holding a fan. Nope, the fan isn't just a pretty accessory--it signifies battle command. Kiyomasa was equally famous for his prowess in war, castle construction and civil engineering (as we were about to witness!)
The castle and the castle walls were simply amazing. Kumamoto Castle is one of the "three great castles of Japan." The castle itself perched high on the hill (anything worthwhile in Japan is worth climbing to achieve...). It wasn't the fantasy Bavarian/Disney tower I always envision when I hear the word "castle", nor the heavy medieval fortress. Instead, it was a layer-cake of wood and plaster, with the ubiquitous upturned roof corners of Japan. On either end of the roof rested huge, curled fish decorations called shachihoko, which are legendary dolphin-like roof decorations throughout Japan. They ward off bad luck, especially fire (a big fear in a country of wooden structures!) But there was nothing flimsy or precious about the castle--the whole structure was definitely masculine, and though it was created with an eye for beauty, it was definitely a case of "form follows function." This was a FORTRESS. The stone walls are absolutely huge, and sharply sloped to repell invaders--and there is no mortar! The construction was fascinating, and beautiful.
The plaques on the grounds were fascinating as well, explaining about the "Six Flowers of Kumamoto", the 600-year-old cinnamon camphora trees, and the samurai ideals that encouraged warriors to be as well versed in things such things as botany, poetry and the tea ceremony as they were in the art of warfare. The "Six Flowers" were developed in the 18th century, when the feudal lord Hosokawa Shigekata encouraged his retainers to take up gardening for their "spiritual education." A pursuit of the samurai, care and propagation methods for these flowers were handed down for generations, and several of the species in the garden have never been cross-bred, and remain genetically pure. (Sounds a little like Japanese isolationist politics to me!)
After exploring the grounds, we decided to go inside the castle itself. The courtyard was awash with school groups, each group in a different uniform. I've never seen so many variations on a navy blue school uniform! There was almost no male-female interaction though. The girls hung all over other girls, and the boys hung all over other boys, wrestling, hugging, standing with arms around each other--not at all in a sexual fashion, more uninhibited and innocent. It was the sort of behavior I expect to see in American kindergarteners, not in junior high school students. Some groups were waiting to go into the castle, others were waiting as small groups visited the souvenir shop, still others were making pyramids or careful sitting/kneeling/standing rows for class photographs, with the castle as the backdrop. They were boisterous and happy, giggling and hanging on one another, but exceedingly well-behaved. I flashed back to our flight into Japan, back in January. I can't imagine seeing that many American students in one place behave so well, with so few adults to hold order! 
When M and I went into the castle to brave the steps, one skinny little girl elbowed her way through her classmates and spoke directly to M in Japanese. At first, M thought the child was asking for M to take a photograph of the child...then she realized the student wanted a photo taken of herself WITH the American tourist! We're in a relatively rural area of Japan, and M supposed the students don't see many Americans. How cool that M could communicate with the child--in Japanese! I think that student was the star of her class for the rest of the day! The stairs up to each level were divided into an "up" lane and a "down" lane, and for the rest of the afternoon, every time we passed this particular group of schoolgirls, they all shouted "Hello! Hello!" and waved at M and me.
I didn't think the inside would be very interesting at first, as there are few windows, but the inside was made into a museum. We weren't sure how high we would climb, but we didn't have much choice..once one starts up, there is no way to get into the "down lane" of the stairs without going up at least four floors. Well, we could've crawled under the chains, but it would've been awkward, and who wants to disobey the rules in front of all those students? So up we went. There was a huge, scale model of the whole castle on display, and another larger model consisting of several rooms. A mirror was positioned so the viewer could see the hand-painted ceiling squares, each a different flower and beautifully executed. Unfortunately, my photo turned out badly.
Another level housed displays of samurai armor, and the insanely small, ornate gilded boxes that were the litters for the high-born ladies. They were about as big as my cat carrier, but much more beautiful. We peeked out an open window (more of a levered-out shutter) and the view was spectacular. When one spends so much time driving through the crowded, narrow streets, sometimes one forgets about the amazing vistas and views, with the lumpy volcanic mountains that are so very "Japanese".
We finally climbed down from the tower and made our way back out to the street. It was pretty late, so we hurried to try to get to the Folk Art Museum and Natsume Soseki's house, which M really wanted to see, as she'd studied his writings in college. Unfortunately, both were already closed! I snapped a couple of shots of M looking despondent beside the house's sign, and we went in search of food, weary and footsore. A bowl of meat and rice helped immensely, and we wandered briefly through the big shopping arcade on our way back to the streetcar line. M decided she wanted something sweet, so she went off to hunt down a banana popsicle-type thing. I waited on a bench, and was approached by two Japanese women. I wasn't sure what they wanted, but one spoke English. She wanted to know if I had any pains or problems. How weird, I thought! My hesitation and apprehension must have shown in my face, so she tried to explain that she and her friend were providing a free service for anyone and everyone, where they would pray and send "positive energy and healing". They would not touch me. It was good for the person they were "healing" and I think it also was of some spiritual benefit for the two women--karma or merit or something. I wasn't sure what to say, so I cautiously admitted that yes, I had some issues with my shoulder. 
The first woman explained (I guess) to the second woman in Japanese. Then they both squatted down on either side of where I sat on the bench, bowed their heads, closed their eyes, spread their arms to encircle me without touching me, and began to chant very softly in Japanese. They did this for about two minutes, then got up, smiled sweetly, bowed in unison, and walked away before I could say a word. M arrived just as they left. What a strange and wonderful experience! I have no idea why these women were doing what they were doing, nor exactly what it was they were doing, but it made me think of Reiki. I don't know if they were Buddhist or Christian or what.
M and I made our way back to the train station in the twilight on a street car packed with schoolgirls, salarimen, shopping matrons and one adorable elderly couple, and from there back home to Sasebo. It was a long day, but certainly an interesting one! More soon, about the rest of our jam-packed mini-tour--two days for Arita, Kashimae Pier, an amazing dinner out with Miyuki, and Fukuoka City! (The cat photo is just a picture of three little cats happily snoozing on a plank across one of the city's canals...I couldn't help myself!)
When I got home from Okinawa, I was in a huge hurry. Miyuki had asked me, months ago, to visit her school and carve pumpkins with the "culture class." I'd said yes, of course, but when Halloween came and went, I figured it just wasn't going to happen. I was wrong. Miyuki wanted me to come on Friday, November 17th. When I told her I might be late, or might not make it due to my trip to visit Emily -- but perhaps I could find another Navy spouse to go instead -- Miyuki blanched. Turns out teachers must get permission at City Hall to have a "guest teacher" (I thought I was just going to be a class visitor!) and Miyuki had gotten permission for me specifically to come to the class on Friday, November 17th. The parents all knew I was coming, and would blame Miyuki if I didn't show. Miyuki could even lose her job if parents complained! The way the flight/bus schedule worked coming home from Okinawa, I could get back to Sasebo, but just BARELY in time for the planned class visit. Barring a flight delay, I was going to make it -- and Miyuki's relief was HUGE.
Miyuki picked me up at the bus station that afternoon, and took me straight to Hiu Junior High School. The school is very large, with perhaps 3,000 students. There is virtually no parking -- all students walk to school (no school buses), and teachers jockey for the few tiny spaces. Since Miyuki had me with her, she was allowed to park right in front of the school, a privilege which thrilled her. From the outside, the two wide four-story buildings one in front of the other, backed up against the mountainside, are pretty impressive. There is a gym building off to one side and a large, fenced, packed-dirt space spanning the entire building front for various sports. Except for the big, bare sports space, it might be any kind of structure, from a not-very-pretty old hospital to a government administration building. However, once inside the big double doors, it's obviously a school. There is the international school smell of chalk, old linoleum, and sweat, and kids' voices echoing faintly down the halls.
We went to the teacher's room, where all the teachers have their desks. Other than a hot plate and a small fridge in one corner, the room was wall-to-wall desks. Miyuki is lucky, as she has her desk at one corner of a desk block, so she has a desk to her right and one directly facing, but the aisle on her left. Miyuki has a "homeroom" of about 35 seventh grade students ("ichinensei" -- literally "first year students"), but she is not to keep anything in that room. She has no desk in the classroom, and is expected to stand at a podium all day as she teaches, and not to ever sit except at lunch--something we might expect of college professors, but not usually of American junior high school teachers! Miyuki teaches English, Morals and "International Cultures" class, in addition to her homeroom class. I was introduced to Miyuki's head teacher, a kind gentleman who nevertheless did not rise to meet me, but nodded regally from behind his desk as Miyuki bowed low (as did I, only half a beat behind).
I'd purchased seven big American-style pumpkins at the base for Miyuki back in October, and she had them waiting in bags. I'd also bought six of the cheap little "pumpkin carving kits" for her, but had told her I would need a bigger knife for cutting the tops off. She'd provided me with a 3" fruit knife...not exactly what I had in mind, but I made it work. The children came in, and automatically divided themselves into six groups at the worktables, a few of them donning aprons brought from home to avoid staining their school clothes -- even a couple of the boys donned aprons, and no one seemed to think twice about a young man in red and white gingham. It surprised me a little, as so much here, especially clothing and toys, is so very gender-specific. Most of the girls clustered at the front table, greeting me over and over ("Hello! Hello! Hello! Hello!") while a few told me their names, and asked me slowly "what is your name?" This is their first year of English instruction, and they don't know many phrases beyond "What is your name?" The boys were more aloof. At one point, there was a knock on the window, and we all turned to look. It was Rumi, the young woman who introduced me to her dead parents! I recognized her, thank goodness, and made a big deal of greeting her by name and talking to her. If she'd had a tail, she would have been wagging it. The whole class looked at her with a new awe and respect, as she not only KNEW the Americaijin, but seemed to be FRIENDS with her! Rumi walked off to class with a little swagger in her step that was lacking before. Hurray, Rumi!!
Miyuki had printed some "classic" Jack o'Lantern faces on white paper, and briefly told the class that they could, if they chose, hold the paper against the pumpkin as a template. I remembered that several times in the past, Miyuki has complained that Japanese students strive so hard for perfection, but often miss out on creativity and experimentation, so when she introduced me, and then translated my simple speech of welcome and instruction, I made sure to tell them that in America, there were many different ways to carve a pumpkin, and they could use the templates or not...and they could come look at the pumpkin I would be carving at the front of the class if they chose. Then I began slicing the tops off the pumpkins and setting the students to scraping the insides clean.
Let me tell you, I've never in my life seen such clean pumpkin hollows. They were so very serious about getting the pumpkin shell as clean and tidy as possible, to please me! The various groups kept bringing me their pumpkins to show me the insides. After the first group was sent back to scrape more, the rest waited to come up to me until they'd scraped the shell smooth and clean as a glass bowl! With each clean, smooth shell, I said "Good job!" or something similar, and the entire group would BEAM, and repeat "goo-du jobu!" to each other on their way back to their seats.
A rhythm developed, and his whole group chanted as he twisted and tossed the Jack o'Lantern. I had them repeat it so I could film it. Too funny! The girls' pumpkin with multiple faces included a cut out "ghost" that could be removed or replaced from the pumpkin, and a "panel" on which they each signed their names in romanji. One girl from this group took the shreddy pumpkin guts and some of the trimmings from carving the various faces, and made me a "pretend" o-nigiri (rice ball) in the shape of a kitty cat, and brought it to me on a tray of newspaper for me. After the pumpkins were carved, we played "Halloween Bingo" where I held up big laminated cards with drawings of witches, ghosts, etc. and called out "three witches" or "one haunted house!" The students repeated each phrase in English as they marked the various images on their photocopied "bingo cards". Then they lined up in front of me, each one saying solemnly "Tu-ri-ku Tu-ree-to!" in exchange for a piece of Halloween candy from the big bag of American chocolates.
Afterwards, Miyuki took me to meet her homeroom class, which includes all sorts of activities, such as singing instruction, preparation for various class competitions, and helping students "rate" themselves on how they've done each day and what they should prepare for the next day. Each student has a special notebook in which they write the homework expected for each class each day, upcoming tests, etc. They also rate themselves on how they've done in various areas, such as class participation, discussion, citizenship, teamwork, etc. The rating is not for a grade or for anyone else's eyes, it's completely for personal reasons, to help keep track of where one needs to concentrate and improve -- a circle means "adequate," a circle within the circle means "good," and an X means "needs improvement!" I was fascinated with the books, and asked if I could take a photo of one young lady's pages. An indignant boy immediately insisted to Miyuki that I take a photo of his book as well, as his was "much tidier than hers, and a better example!"
Miyuki offered my pumpkin to the class, for one "lucky student" to take home. Before I could ask how she would decide who got it, she shouted in Japanese, and threw her right hand into the air. The whole class rose as one when she shouted, their right hands flying into the air as well. Several sat down immediately, and Miyuki shouted again, flinging her hand. This happened several times, lightning-fast, with a wave of kids sitting down each time, before I realized what they were doing. It was Ro-Cham-Bo, or "Rock, Paper, Scissors"! When Miyuki tossed a sign into the air, the students who were beaten sat down. The students whose symbols tied or beat Miyuki's continued the game. No one tried to cheat. No one looked to see what others were doing. There were no pauses in the intense rhythm, as kids immediately sat upon losing, disappointed but not angry, eager to see who would win. Very quickly the contestants were narrowed to two besides Miyuki, and she bowed out, allowing the two to "shoot it out" to find the winner. At the end, the whole class applauded, and the two final contestants bowed to one another before sitting, with the winner beaming happily. I wish I'd realized what was happening fast enough to make a video!
I loved every minute of my day with Miyuki at school, and hope to do it again soon. Miyuki gave me a quick ride home, before returning to school to grade papers and work up the next day's lessons. At least this year she is not also coaching badminton after school for two to four hours every evening, and also on Saturday and Sunday--Japanese school is seven days a week! Miyuki gets two Saturdays and two Sundays off each month, and as a result, the other teachers consider her selfish and "not a team player". And parents can call her and ask her to come in early or stay late, or come in on a day off or a holiday, if they don't want their kids at home and underfoot, and Miyuki can't say no. Can you imagine? I hope to have more Japanese school adventures for you this winter. 
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