As relaxing as down time may be, it starts to take a toll on me when days, even weeks pass without teaching. I start to miss the students and the things they say. Oh, the ridiculous(ly funny) things they say sometimes... One of the best things about this job is the way in which the students spark up my day with the predictable and unexpected things they say.
I say predictable, because there are certain comments that I can always expect to hear. For example, I constantly hear, "kawaii" yelled across classrooms, hallways and even out windows. "Kawaii" means "cute" and it is easily the most overused word in the typical Japanese girl's vocabulary. It can be used to describe just about anything, especially ALTs. I used to feel special, until I heard a girl call one of the other teachers "kawaii"... I'll leave it at that haha.
I say predictable, because there are certain comments that I can always expect to hear. For example, I constantly hear, "kawaii" yelled across classrooms, hallways and even out windows. "Kawaii" means "cute" and it is easily the most overused word in the typical Japanese girl's vocabulary. It can be used to describe just about anything, especially ALTs. I used to feel special, until I heard a girl call one of the other teachers "kawaii"... I'll leave it at that haha.
Besides the usual "kawaii," the girls always have something to say about my image. One girl told me that I must be "motemote," or in other words, very popular among the Japanese boys. (Do we live in the same Japan? :p) Other girls tell me that I'm beautiful. Even some of the boys will pipe in and call me "beautiful" or "cute," except that their intentions aren't always as pure. Often, messages get lost in translation. During Halloween, I dressed up as a male student. The sleeves on the uniform were too short, and the blazer fit awkwardly. I had just finished joking about it, with a group of girls, when one of them turned to her friend and said, "No, no. Kelly, nice body!" Or another time, a group of girls were walking past me in the hallway, and I heard one of them say, "Kelly-sensei is cute!" I replied, "thank you!" They hadn't expected that -- they thought I hadn't been listening. My response triggered a flow of comments that started with a louder, "Kelly-sensei is cute!" Then, "Kelly-sensei is beautiful!" And finally, one of the girls yelled, "Kelly-sensei is perfect!" Unfortunately, this girl got scolded by a teacher for being too loud. Oops.
But things aren't always peaches and cream. For about a week, a male student insisted on running past my classroom everyday, while chanting, "Kelly, fat!" Once in a while, he would add, "diet!" to the end of the sentence. I would simply smile at him and let it slide. It's attention that he wants, of course, and I won't indulge him unless he has something less rude to say. I really hope that he doesn't go around commenting on girls' weights, because that I wouldn't tolerate.
Often, I wonder where the kids first heard some of the things they say. One boy always greets me with a "hey, crazy!" During the holidays, he signed his Christmas card to me with his new alias, "Crazy Boy." One girl discovered the word, "baby" and for about a day added it to the end of every sentence. Her one-liners included the following: "Hello, baby!", "I don't know, baby.", "Really, baby?", "Kelly, baby!" and "See you, baby!" I had to try my best to act professionally, instead of laughing like I really wanted to. She paused before saying "baby"and her tone changed dramatically from the rest of the sentence when she said it. Comedy!
Sometimes, the students' curiosity catches me off guard. One Friday, my third-year students were supposed to be doing group work, when one of them flagged me over to ask me a question. I expected him to ask about the dialogue, but instead he asked, "If you're American, why is your hair dark?" I wasn't expecting that, so the first thing that came to mind was, "there are many kinds of people in America." He still looked puzzled, so I added, "Not everyone looks the same. And some people's parents were born in a different country. For example, my parents were born in Mexico and then immigrated to the United States." The Japanese teacher had to translate that bit. He thought about it for a moment and then said, "that's so complicated." This kid has no idea just how overly complicated we make things in America.
So, yes, I miss the students. And though I'm not anxious to work within the confines of my position, I am looking forward to meeting the new first years in April. Just out of junior high school, these teenagers are full of "kawaii"s and other "keen" observations.
KAWAII OVERLOAD
