Chapter 22: CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

There must have been a good thirty or forty students in the classroom with a few more rushing to get in before the bell. I looked around at all the heads of the seated students rising in rows and was surprised that almost all of them were girls. And they all looked so young and lively as they chattered and giggled with each other. Quite a pleasant change from the mostly middle age businessmen I had taught at John's school!

There were a few boys scattered here and there. But they all looked like they would rather be somewhere else. Anywhere else.

The bell rang, more like chimes ringing from a church than from a school.

"Good morning class."

"Good morning teacher!" the girls chanted in chorus. The few boys just glowered at me.

"I'm going to be teaching you this semester instead of your previous teacher who had to leave suddenly. Now let me begin by finding out who is here." I opened the attendance book and began to call their names as slowly as I could.

"Here!" chirped each of the girls as her name was called.

"Yeah," muttered the few boys.

When I read the name of one of the three girls absent, "She not here. Her mother in hospital," one of the girls answered. And when I called another absent girl's name, the same girl answered, "She sick today, teacher." And ditto for the third absent girl.

But when I called the name of one of the three absent boys, dead silence greeted me.

When I finished reading the roll call, I decided to call on a student to read the quite short story. I glanced down at my attendance book. "Ah, Miss Shimizu, would you please read the story at the end of the chapter?"

There was some puzzled whispering among the girls. Then one finally stood up and started to read the story.

She got only halfway through when suddenly there exploded through the thin wall between my classroom and the one behind it,

OH YOU LOOK LOST! MAY I HELP YOU?

Then before Miss Shimizu could start again,

OH HERE IS YOUR TRAIN!

"Miss Shimizu, please continue. I'm sorry about that interruption."

Though obviously rattled, she carried on as bravely as she could and finally finished the story.

But before I could ask a single question about it,

OH THANK YOU! YOU JAPANESE ARE SO KIND AND HELPFUL!

When the eruption seemed to die down again, "Who is one person in this story?"

Five girls shot up their hands, one the same who had told me about the three absent girls. I purposely picked one of the other students with her hand up. "He is shopkeeper."

"That's right! Who is the other person?"

The same hands shot up again. I picked another of those students.

"She is customer."

"That's right, too! What does she want to buy?" Same five hands shot up. Instead of picking on one of those five, I glanced down the attendance book again, "Miss Yamamoto?"

One of the girls looked very startled, whispered to a girl next to her and slowly stood up. "Ah, a clock, teacher?"

"No, I'm afraid that's wrong." I checked my attendance book again. "Ah, Miss Hirota?"

Again the whispering, then Miss Hirota stood up. But before she could could begin to answer, another eruption exploded from the classroom behind us. I motioned for her to wait. When the eruption finally seemed to end, "Miss Hirota?"

"She want suitcase."

"That's right!"

For the next question I decided to call on one of the boy students. "Mr. Yokota, why does she want to buy a suitcase?"

He jerked his head in shock. Without bothering to stand, "I not know," and went back to really wanting to be somewhere else.

The rest of the class went haltingly on, those damned explosions interupting me every two or three minutes.

About thirty minutes before the class period was supposed to end, that damned classroom behind me erupted again. But this time it was the clambering and shouting sounds of the students in that class rushing out like they were being let out of prison.

Apparently their teacher liked to take a lot more time off for the same pay. After all, who was going to tell on him?

I am!

Again I had to stop my own class for a few minutes, but after that there were no more interruptions and I could continue my class in relative peace.

Finally it was lunch period. I went back to the main building hoping to find a cafeteria. I found one, but it was jammed with girl students chattering loudly. I went farther on and found a door marked "Faculty Cafeteria." I opened the door of the small narrow room. It was quiet, the six square tables covered with tablecloths. But there were only two female faculty members in it sitting at different tables, one eating a sandwich she had obviously brought from home. Neither one invited me to sit with her.

I went to the counter where I could choose between the few dishes that were on it. The curry rice looked utterly inedible. But the omuraisu -- a thin egg omelet wrapped around fried rice and everything smothered in ketchup -- didn't look quite so terrible. I picked up a tray, paid the cook for the omuraisu, and took it to one of the empty tables. I had come to like a truly well made omuraisu. But one bite of this one told me from now one I was going to be bringing one of those already-made fresh sandwiches at that new type 'convenience store' that had just opened in my neighborhood.

My afternoon class had about forty students in it, too. But as I called the roll, I noticed there were only three boys listed on the attendance book for that second year class instead of six. Had the other boys dropped out during their first year?

Whatever. I began my lesson. But with so many students in it I knew it was going to be impossible to remember who I had already called on and who I hadn't. So as I called on a student, I jotted a small dot after her or -- very occasionally -- his name in my attendance book. By God, in my classes ALL the students were going to participate whether they wanted to or not!

About halfway through the lesson the bell started chiming!

"Why is the bell ringing, um, Miss Eriko Tanaka?" There were two students with the very common family name of Tanaka so I had to add their given names as well.

She stood. "That bell for all other classes. Not English classes."

"Well thank you for that explanation." I jotted a new dot next to her name. I must have missed hearing the bell in my morning class because of all those choral drills from the classroom behind mine.

The lesson went on, this time with no interruptions from the classroom behind mine. Since I had not seen any students going in to it before the bell rang, I guessed it was not being used for that period. Fine with me!

After I had asked many questions about the much longer story in their textbook, I said, "OK, enough questions from me about the story. Now I want you to ask me a question about the story. It can be one I've already asked you. Would you please ask me a question about the story, ah, Miss Nakamoto."

This time there was a long period of whispering among the girl students before one hesitantly stood up. Apparently this was the first time they had ever been given such an assignment. Finally Miss Nakamoto stood up. "Ah, where this story take place?"

"Where does this story take place," I corrected.

"Where does this story take place?"

"In a department store." A larger dot next to her name for this more difficult task. After she sat down, "Now Miss Abe, would you please ask me a question?"

"What does the woman want to buy?"

"A wedding dress. Miss Ishida, would you please ask me a question?"

"Why does she want to buy a wedding dress?"

"Because she is going to be married soon. Very good, Miss Ishida." Beaming, she sat back down.

Sure I was going to get the usual response, "Mr. Watanabe, would you please ask me a question?"

Without standing, "I not know."

"That is not a question. Ask me a question."

"I not know." And glared at me for interrupting his nap.

As the drill continued the girls seemed to start enjoying being the ones to lead the teacher in the questioning instead of the other way around. But the boys remained hopeless.

After the students had asked me many questions, I decided to end class ten minutes early. The president was waiting for my reaction to teaching here. And there were already four to five dots next to each student's name. "I have a meeting I must attend today. So I'll stop a bit early. Class dismissed."

As they were leaving a few of the girls came up to me, "Thank you for very interesting class, Teacher!"

Submitted: July 03, 2023

Romance romance japan gaijin travel-in-japan japan-1970s

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Comments

B Douglas Slack

Nice to see you're still keeping your hand in, Ken. Been a while. Did you take any trips over the summer?

Bill

Sun, August 27th, 2023 5:35pm

Kenneth Wright

Bill

I have just returned from a five-week trip to Cairns QLD, Australia during which I wrote six new chapters and plan to post them one by one every week or ten days or so. That, plus an almost month's stay in the hospital, plus the three months or so before and after that stay had put a real crimp in my writing output. I plan to be changing my Profile accordingly. Thanks, too, for the spelling corrections about 'a' and 'paid', things you easily miss when preparing an entire chapter for publication. Re: Explosion. I hope you noticed it was followed by a comma, not a period and that the explosion in caps that follows showed exactly what it's like to be in the next classroom with such a loud teacher. Believe me, I've experienced this firsthand as I will explain in the Afterword. As always thanks for the comments.

Ken

Tue, August 29th, 2023 7:40am