Endings

Bloody rain. I thought the worse of the rainy season was over but it seems I was sorely mistaken. I don’t mind it all that much but our rescheduled paragliding session is coming up this Sunday and, once again, the rain threatens to derail it. Unfortunately the session we cancelled took place on a miraculously sunny day, one day after a torrential downpour. Hopefully some similar miracle will help us out this weekend.

One of the many things I’ve learnt over here; the Japanese love ceremonies. I deduced this fact almost a year ago when I attended three of the things on the same day but the almost fanatical devotion to these seemingly pointless sessions of monologuing continues. This morning was the closing ceremony of this term. It was indeed as dull as the countless others I’ve been made to sit through, but this one was sticky. Very sticky. The rain had combined with the heat radiating from, well certainly not the sun but from somewhere, and had created a sort of invisible treacle that swished around my head in place of oxygen. Urgh. It was horrible and towards the end I was anxiously tapping my foot and rolling my fingers over each other in anticipation for the final “Uwarimasu” and the slow trolling of the students back to their homerooms. This came after almost an hour of speeches and awards, all done in the characteristic monotone of formal ceremonies the world over.

In stark contrast to this was the swimming competition held yesterday. This was one of the few times I actually saw the students break out of their academic shells and enjoys themselves, and amazingly the teachers let them do it. It was great fun, even if I was just watching from the sidelines. It did seem a little pointless, but therein lies, thought I, the real reason behind it. It was pointless; nobody really won anything, the races were short and uneventful, but the students spent the better part of a whole day enjoying themselves. There were no speeches, no screeching teachers telling them to cut it out, no bowing in unison. No ceremony. This is the way the term should have ended, rather than in the overpowering smog of the gym to the drone of the kocho.