Kids say the darndest things!

I love it when students take the initiative to speak English.  I wouldn't say that it happens often but when they do, it makes for some memorable moments indeed.  Some of them are mercifully unaware of how amusing they sound at times.  I’m not mocking them.  It's not the accent or the pronunciation of words.  It's usually how they describe certain things.  As their vocab is very limited they are restricted with what they are able to say.  But sometimes it's the profoundly simple things that they utter that make me smile.  I’m happy to see that for the most part, students like to play around with the language. Some words will trigger for them a particular phrase that they've heard (which they don't usually understand) but at least they are able to find some kind of context for it.  The other day the teacher was explaining to the kids that 'Mom' (Mum) and 'Dad' are informal more intimate forms of address for 'Mother' and 'Father'. She also gave the examples, 'Mommy' (Mummy) and 'Daddy', to which one of the boys replied, 'Big Daddy'.  It just hung in the air as none of the other kids knew what he was talking about, and the teacher I think was a little stunned.  I guess he watched the movie?  
When kids use their own wits to construct a response, you're able to catch a glimpse into their thought process.  That can be both enlightening and scary.  It’s all one big learning curve but it's the effort that I want to acknowledge more than anything.  

My friend and fellow English Teacher had commented on an interesting conversation she had with a Principal at one of her schools.  She said that his English is passable but he could care less about grammar and sentence structure.  His attitude (and I think it’s a great one) was that ‘so long as we are communicating that’s all that matters’.  The main thing is that you understand me and I understand you.  Well said.  There may be some things that get lost in translation but hopefully they’re not all that important as you have more than enough to engage in a really good, hearty conversation.  A missing slice of gherkin is hardly going to make a difference to the experience of munching on a Big Mac.  Weird analogy but it’s the only one that comes to mind at the moment. 

The other day I attended one of the 2^nd grade classes at Junior High School.  They were each given a worksheet with a specific dialogue printed on it, that they were required to memorize and recite to either myself or the teacher.  The class was divided into two teams, and the students paired off.  The race was on to see which team would finish first.  There were 14 different scenarios that followed this dialogue pattern.  All they needed to do was replace the city with another, change the weather conditions and the activity that they would be doing in said city. 

The dialogue was as follows:

     A.  You’re going to Osaka.  How’s the weather?

     B.  It’s hot.

     A.  What will you do there?

     B.  I will go swimming. 

After a few minutes, two boys walked up to the front and stood before me.  Concentrated looks worn by both of them, determined to score the first points for their team. I pointed to one and said, ‘A’ and designated the other, as ‘B’.  They looked at each other momentarily before speaking.  This is what they had to say. 

     A.  You’re going to Hokkaido.  How’s the weather?

     B.  It’s cold.

     A.  What will you do there?

     B.  I will eat hot food. 

I burst out laughing at the clever but snooty remark.  That was pretty good.  I looked up and found the boys merely staring back at me.  They were stumped as to why I would laugh at their dialogue.  Evidently, Hokkaido is very cold and eating hot food usually remedies this.  Makes sense.  Sarcasm is not as rampant here as it is back home.  Points awarded. 

The next pairing was of a gangly looking boy with spiked up hair who speaks with the urgency of a fossil, and a little speck of a girl who shrieks like a hyena.  When she laughs though, she makes no sound whatsoever.  Strange.  This was their attempt. 

     A.  You’re going to New York.  How’s the weather?

     B.  It’s cloudy.

     A.  What will you do there?

     B.  I will visit Jiyunomegami. 

I was confused.  ‘What? What did you say?’.  The boy who was ‘B’ nervously (and very slowly) repeated his answer.  Jiyunomegami.  I asked them, ‘What is that?’.

The Hyena girl immediately struck a pose, raising her right hand straight up in the air, her left arm resting on her chest as she focussed on a point just above my head.  Before I could nod to them that I understood, and that in English Jiyunomegami is ‘The Statue of Liberty’, the Hyena girl jumped up and down and started chanting, ‘Free girl, free girl!’.  I smiled and gave them the points.  When I told them the correct English translation, they stared blankly at me.  I sympathized with them.  ‘Free girl’ certainly is much easier to pronounce.  
   

At the end of each 1^st grade class at Junior High School, I’m often met with a chorus of ‘good-byes’ or ‘see yous’ as the students file out of the classroom.  They’re a good bunch of kids, who thankfully are still enthused about English.  On this particular day, several girls had passed by saying ‘good-bye’.  One straggler threw her arm around one of her friends and said, ‘Let’s go’ and I said ‘yes, very good’, pleased that she had spoken some English.  I nodded to her and repeated, ‘Let’s go’.  She smiled and walked past with her friend.  As she neared the door, I heard her say, ‘Let’s go to heaven’.  A phrase she’d obviously picked up from somewhere, having no clue about its’ meaning.  I called out to her, ‘No!  You don’t want to go there.  You’re too young!’.  The girls looked at each other, not knowing how to respond to the stream of English words that had poured out of my mouth.  Fight or Flight?  They quickly changed gears, picked up their pace and carried on through the door and down the corridor, without so much as a backward glance.      

Great.  Way to go.  Scare them straight with my own fears of death.  Hmmmm