Finale and Prelude

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It seems a bit bizarre to be writing about endings in March, but I am in Japan and that is when they happen here. Perhaps it is their hyperawareness of the seasons that inspires them to place the most auspicious of events just prior to the coming of spring and the cherry blossoms. From nursery schools to university, March is the universal month for valedictories and teary-eyed moms lugging around boxes of Kleenex, disbelieving the fact that time has passed so quickly. As for me, having been thrust into the middle of the Japanese school year in September, I didn’t have quite the level of attachment to my students. Still, the leaving of the students that I have taught twice weekly for the last eight months left me with a tear or two as well.
Graduation ceremony was very formal, as things tend to be here. We all gathered in the seemingly sub-zero confines of the gymnasium, the dozen-or-so teachers, the 15 graduates, the other 19 students and a smattering of parents, relatives and elected officials. I wore a suit for the first time since the day I got off the plane nearly eight months ago, (I generally wear khakis and sweaters to work) and I stood side by side the other teachers as we sang the Japanese national anthem and “Best Friends,” a song which shows up on every special occasion. We then were commanded to sit down, and the principal, the head of the PTA, and the assistant to the mayor, the number two man in town, gave a speech about how far the 15 year-olds had come in the last three years. At that point, each student was called individually. They came to the podium, bowed deeply before the principal who responded to a lesser degree, received the prized certificate, held it up for all to see, and proceeded to place it under their arm before returning to their seat. There was no applause for the students. Everyone just stared and wiped their eyes.
After the ceremony, was of course, the obligatory party. All the graduates, their parents, and the teachers were present to celebrate the achievements of the graduating class. Everybody received an enormous bento, or boxed lunch, consisting of fish, shrimp, crabs, pork, and lots of other food on my can’t eat list. A neighboring teacher felt sorry for me so she traded with me until my plate was filled with cheese balls, sushi and random vegetables.
I didn’t realize the stuff I would reap just for showing up. Already that morning, I had received a mug with a full color photo of all the students and the teachers as well as a yearbook in which a page is dedicated to comments about me from the students. At the graduation party, I got still more presents, a rose from a student, and a paperweight in the shape of a giraffe. Towards the end of the party, all the teachers, myself included, were beckoned to the front of the room to make a brief speech to the students on their accomplishments and advice for the future. With all the parents and teachers staring at me, I fumbled my Japanese and completely forgot what I was going to say. Finally, I blurted out congratulations and made a bow, more in a sign of embarrassment than respect. Soon after, we had dessert, and the students departed under a bridge of all the well-wishers, singing Auld Lang Syne in Japanese. Quicker than you could say Tamagawa, the students were gone and with them the end of my first phase of my life in Japan.
In this transitory time, it is not only the students who enter a new station in life; but some of the teachers as well. It is almost impossible to be fired here, but you can be transferred to any school in the prefecture, up to three hours away from here. Every year, several teachers, and occasionally principals and assistant principals are forced to relocate themselves and their families to their new home. My English teacher co-worker has heard rumors, and has already started house hunting to move her family of five.
The new school year commences in April after a spring break for the students, but not the teachers. For us, there are various farewell and opening parties to commemorate the changing of the guard and start thinking about a brand new school year. For me, the culmination of the first term of the new year will signal the time to go home for a bit and renew acquaintances before I come back here refreshed and reenergized. I am starting to look forward to it quite a bit.
Next week, I head for South Korea, only a short boat ride away.

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