This is the first in a series of articles that explores the Japanese education system: from a western perspective. I hope to give you an idea of what kind of things happen in these institutions of learning. Some things resemble North America to a shocking degree, while other things are just shocking. Today I will start with the most basic form of organized Education, 保育所（Hoikusho), or pre-school.
I make my way through the gates at around 8:50am. There they are. There are about 20 children and five staff members. They are waiting for me. Today is the day they are getting their visit from Mr.English Teacher. I am ready. I have my bag full of construction paper and magic markers. Nothing can keep me from advancing English education in this country. I make my way through the doors.
Immediately, I am flanked by six kids. Three on each side. A mix of boys and girls. I have no time to react. They take me down in record time. In the chaos I can make out some garbled Japanese, but I can’t figure out what it is they were saying. Something about play time, or kill time. Either way, I am in. There is no going back. A quick kancho to my bum is thwated by a sturdy combination of Iron pants and metal underwear. That little tyke won’t be trying that one again.
I struggle to my feet and make my way to the staff room. The staff offers me a seat, and asks me what I’d like to drink. It seems someone tipped them off that I am an early morning cola drinker. They have a fridge stocked with cola. I think it’s a little odd, but take the bottle they are offering to me. The head of the preschool says that play time starts at 9am. That is when I will be lead into the arena play area. I say a little prayer, and off I go. At first it isn’t so bad. There is a little girl who wants me to play ball with her. I oblige and start a simple game of pass the ball. I hope that I won’t draw too much attention.
Whoops, too late. A small batallion of children are making their way towards me, with jump ropes in their hand. They want me to play. Following them is another girl with a hoola hoop. She wants hoop action, and she wants it now. But there is no time for that. There is a three year old who wants me to play with her little dolly. What to do? So many kids, and so little Jason. Somehow in the hour of playtime, I manage to satisfy all of their play time needs. With a bit of ball juggling hoop twisting and rope skipping I manage to placate them…. for now.
Clean up time comes, and just when I think I have a rest, they move the action outside. They get an hour outside. I head out bodly and hope to survive. What I don’t realize is that preshcool recreation time is a jungle. And they don’t play by anyone’s rules.
Once everyone is outside, the children divide into groups and set out to different tasks. One group seemes keen on climbing a dangerous looking tree and having me give them a ride back to the other side of the yard. Another group was making pie out of dirt. Their goal was to have me eat all the tasty dirt meals they were making. I had to pretend to eat everything. A third group of younger children were moving dirt from one place to another using shovels and wheelbarows. I didn’t even want to enquire about what nerfarious plans they had in store. During this time I bounce cautiously from group to group and assist them with what they are doing. So far so good. But then a fourth group of children starts catching live insects and start having me inspect them. That was fine until the monster cricket got loose. After an hour of this, they are summoned back inside for a potty break. I am spared. Sadly, I am also stuck on the side. It seems the bum I am using to slide is too fat.
Once everyone is inside all the children and staff gather in a big circle and sing an cute little greeting song. Then they throw the ball in my court. I now have to entertain these children for 45 minutes and they are looking at me, hungry. I throw my first punch. It’s a +2 hokey pokey spell. They seem to enjoy it. Especially the young ones. They can’t seem to get enough of wiggling around. After one round of this, I decide to have everyone practice their lefts and rights with a simulation of an intersection made of lego blocks. I think they are getting it. After the kids go through this once, I hit them with a Red Light Green Light of Ultimate destruction. They love it. I’m teaching them about colors and they aren’t tearing me to pieces. It’s great.
After we finish the lunch bell rings and we all pile into the lunch room for a little hamberg goodness. It seems they have prepared a massive ‘burg just for me. but it seems all is not right in toddler land. Two of the kids start fighting about where I have to sit. They both want me to sit with them. I tell them it’s impossible, but I might just have a solution. I move them, and place myself between them. Now lunch is truly served and all are happy.
The end of lunch signifies my departure from the preschool. This usually makes the children sad. I’ll be honest, it makes me sad as well. Bad military analogies aside, I find preschool to be the most enjoyable out of all the grade levels. The children are attentive and eager to learn, and they are the cutest little buggers of the face of the planet. They all get ready for nap time, and I make my way to the door. In their half sleepy state they wave to me with all their might. They want me to come back soon. Will I be back? You can count on it.
0 Responses to “Hoikusho - Behind the scenes -”