Boys will be boys

Last year in Elementary School, the 6^th grade class held a play.  It was an old Japanese Story about a boy called Momotaro, who was found inside a giant peach no less!  In a nutshell, Peachboy goes on a quest of sorts with his friends (a bird, a dog and a monkey) to an island, and together they defeat both the Red Demon and Blue Demon who live there.   After a while, they reconcile their differences and all become firm friends.  Together they traipse back to Momotaros’ village and live happily ever after. 

The students each had a part and wore masks to denote the character they represented.  The dialogue the teacher had written for them was very simple and highly repetitive, so we heard Momotaro and his friends declaring throughout at regular intervals how ‘brave and strong’ they were.  A rowdy and excitable audience was also needed, so the 1^st and 2^nd graders had been recruited to ‘pack the house’.  I watched with delight from the back, in anticipation of what was about to unfold. 

The boys I have to say really captured the moment with their efforts.  Their exaggerated gestures and comical facial expressions were an instant hit with the crowd.  The girls on the other hand timidly recited their lines with very little conviction and even less enthusiasm.  The boys paraded around the stage while the girls made like statues, their entire bodies seemingly cast in iron.  If their mouths weren’t moving, no doubt they would’ve been mistaken for ill-placed props.    

The two boys playing the roles of the surly demons could not have been more different from each other in terms of personality.  While both performed exceptionally well, the ‘Blue Demon’ reminded me of ‘Kermit the Frog’ (I know weird right?), while the ‘Red Demon’ played a very convincing, ‘Animal’.  Like Kermit, the Blue Demon was a consummate professional, accustomed to the bright lights and adulation of his fans, he gave them what they paid to see.  When the ‘Blue Demon’ entered the stage he beat his chest, let out a howl, and ran around the stage, raising his arms in the air, eliciting gasps and shrieks from the 1^st graders seated in the front row. 

The ‘Red Demon’ however, growled like a Yeti, as he entered the stage, toting a ‘gun’ in each hand, then hoisting what appeared to be an imaginary rocket launcher onto his shoulder and setting it off in the direction of Momotaro and his friends.  He had pre-empted the upcoming fighting scene.  Whoops. 

The 1^st graders who had been spooked by the Blue Demon suddenly laughed with delight as they pointed at the antics of the Red Demon.  Having captivated the audience, he took his act on the road, pretending that he had been caught in the line of fire (from where? Nobody knows).  Momotaro and his friends were momentarily stunned and confused by the Red Demon’s antics (as too was the Blue Demon), so they couldn’t have been responsible for mortally wounding him.  A sniper perhaps?  The Red Demon clutched at his chest (the guns and rocket launcher miraculously disappearing) and slowly sunk down on to the floor, where he lay for some moments, eyes closed, face wrenched in pain before succumbing to his wounds.  What a performance! 

There was a shocked silence amongst the audience.  But before any of them could start crying at the sudden twist of events, the Red Demon rose from the dead before our very eyes and the scene was ‘reshot’ to include the rest of the cast.  The teacher smiled stiffly.  It was obvious that he and the Red Demon would end their professional relationship after the tour, citing ‘creative differences’.    

I thought it was hilarious. 

Note to self:  Remember this kids’ name for future reference, just in case he makes it big in Hollywood.   

It all started with a paper mask of a gorilla.  Did I forget to mention that? He had drawn a face of an ORANGE gorilla as his mask, to play the part of the ‘RED Demon’.  Why? There are no footnotes about this and you won’t find anything in the appendices either.  It remains a mystery that is unlikely to be uncovered, because it’s really not that important.   

So my last day at Junior High School was yesterday.  The 6^th grade Elementary School students of last year that I just spoke of are now the 1^st grade Junior High School students of this year. 

After class, I bid them all good bye although most of them hung around the teachers’ desk for a bit, which I was deeply touched by.  Some of the students wished me well while the rest simply stared across the desk at me.  Weird.  The ‘Red Demon’ was closest to me but said nothing.  He looked at me for a few minutes and I smiled at him, wondering whether he was about say something, when he nodded at me, several times.  I nodded back and took that as his way of saying good-bye.  Again, weird. 

One of the girls then asked for my address and I turned to write it down for her.  Slowly, the students began to file out of the classroom, on their way to their next lesson.  I looked up to say good-bye when I noticed that the ‘Red Demon’ was still standing in the same spot, staring at me.  He had been patiently waiting for some of the students to leave.  I looked at him and then said ‘Ganbatte kudasai’.  He responded immediately by saying the same thing back to me, only way, WAY better.  I then said to him, ‘Nujirando e kita kudasai’ – Please come to New Zealand. 

He said nothing.  Okay, maybe I mispronounced a few words?  He just looked at me with big bright eyes and mouth gaping, as if what I’d just said to him, defied all logic.  Maybe I really messed up the phrase?  I turned to the teacher who had been listening in, and nervously asked her whether I had said the phrase correctly.  She nodded and quietly said that ‘it was fine, he’s just overwhelmed by your invitation’.  Oh. 

I had visions of a small Japanese school boy stowing away on a cargo ship bound for New Zealand, carrying nothing but his school bag (containing his mother’s cell phone, a few comic books, a bio-security hazard in the form of a seriously overripe Nashi and of course his English textbook) in one hand and a tennis racquet in the other. 

So long as the Rocket Launcher stays home, it should be fine.  And we’ll call his parents too.   

I don’t know if I’ll ever see these kids again.  It’s unlikely.  But I sincerely hope that some of these students, if not all, take up the challenge to persevere with English and use the knowledge they gain to travel the world, experience new cultures, and meet a diverse range of people.  Of course you don’t need to be able to speak English for that, but it’s a good start.  I know that these children will never forget where they’ve come from or who they are.  It’s firmly ingrained in them, and that is most certainly a good thing.  But I hope that they will be open to all the new and exciting experiences this strange world has to offer them in the future.  All the very best!