Whale of a story

This past weekend, I took a trip with a couple of friends to one of the islands located off of southwest Okinawa. It is called Zamami, one of the many islands that make up the larger Keramas. There lives David, a first-year ALT.

Our host for the weekend, David organized for us a whale watching boat ride on Saturday afternoon. With pretty excellent weather (considering what followed on Sunday), we boarded the boat of one Kiyoshi-san, an apparent veteran of whale watching (he’s pretty good with a camera, too, as evidenced by his pictures from previous expeditions). And it could not have gone better.

We were making our way out into the Sea of Japan when the first spouts of water and air were spotted. Several boats, around four, approached the spot and we watched as the whales (two adults, one newborn) surfaced quite often, in regard for the little whales developing lungs. As we followed along, discussing all kinds of things, we were presented with one of the most amazing sights I have ever seen in my life: a full whale breach.

Without warning, around 100-200m from our boat, one of the adult whales erupted from the sea, its body perpendicular to the surface, the seawater cascading off its skin as it came to its peak and then fell back into the water, creating a most spectacular splash. The breach was followed by several “head slaps.” While not full breaches, the whale continued to jump, to a lesser degree, though the thrill of watching such an event was still quite awe inspiring.

I haven’t felt so much like a kid surprised by something so amazing in quite a while. Sure, television programs on The Discovery Channel and similar stations may have given me the idea of what whales do in the ocean, but seeing it in person, from only a meager 100m or so really changed everything. I was gasping, smiling, absolutely floored. It was that amazing.

We followed the whales for quite a while, though I’m not sure how long. Hours? We were also treated to “tail slaps” that were so large they turned the water light blue from all the bubbles, “flipper flaps” (I can’t think of the term) where the whales come to the surface, turn on their side, and slap the water with their fins, and surfacings so close that we could hear the violent expulsion of air from the whales refilling lungs.

Our last special treat was the breach of the baby whale. It’s tiny (tiny?! hardly) body flung out of the water, crashing back in a splash smaller than, but just as spectacular as, its parent’s earlier breach.

I didn’t take my camera. Oh, what a travesty, you may think. Quite the opposite, I say. The entire time I was watching the whales with my very own eyes, obstructed by nothing other than my blinking. Is it a shame I don’t have pictures of my own to look at many months from now? Is it a shame that I can’t share any with you? I don’t think so. You can find pictures anywhere, but you can’t replace the experience.

Winging it

I had a very clear plan of what I was going to do in today's 2nd grade elementary class. I even had my little slip of paper with each step, minutes proportioned accordingly, how to arrange the class, even an extra activity in case things ran too quickly. And I didn't use it; not even for a second.

As I began the lesson, I started off with a standard counting review. The kids are good with 1-10, but past that, things get haltingly...unaccustomed. The kids aren't bad - they just don't know it yet. As we reached 10, I just decided to push the limit...to 11...then to 12. And there went the plan!

But it was a great decision! The numbers 1-12 represent every number they'll need to know to at least tell time in hours, and what better in-class prop than a large clock with moving parts. We spent a good bit of time on 11 and 12, getting the pronunciation down, making sure they could remember it. We'd count, "1...2...3...~...9...10... ... ...." "E-le-ven," I'd prompt. And we'd do it over and over. Then move on to 12. We started chanting the numbers, me doing a stupid little dance to get the kids laughing and enjoying it. After that, we tackled "o'clock."

We finished up the period with a game where I called out a time and the two opposing teams had to draw hands on the face of clocks drawn on the chalkboard. By the end of the game, they were saying, 「超簡単、ボン先生！」　cho-kantan, bon-sensei "Way too easy!" Well, good!

28, some photographs

As promised, a few photos from March 3, also known as Hina matsuri, a festival for girls.

First graders, after having stormed the teachers' room, given me their poster, and sung parts of Happy Birthday, posing for a pic. Adorable.

Fifth grade chalkboard, a surprise prepared before class. The large ボン on the left says "bon", which is me!

Fifth graders, after class, which was a blast. Photo credit: Akihiko-sensei.

28

Turned 28 today. It was fantastic! Some of the kids and teachers at school got into the celebrations and I really enjoyed it. I had dinner with Cliff and splurged on the special.

I have a few pictures on my phone from today. I'll be sure to upload them before the week is over, or at least by this weekend. Great day, long day, time for sleep.

Starting to end

I think today was the start of the end. Of school. Relax, it's nothing too heavy.

The 3nensei, or 9th graders, are approaching the end of their junior high school careers. In less than a month, they will have graduated, found out where they're going to high school (if they're going), and move on to the next adventure. For at least two weeks, there will be a large gap in each of my schools. At one school, Takae, the 3nensei make up about 25% of the student body (a total of nine grades).

So today, at Arume, we had a ３年生送る会, or a 3nensei send-off. Instead of 5th and 6th period, the junior high school students (by grade) and one team of teachers participated in exhibition matches of basketball, the sport of choice here in Higashi (despite the small size of the schools, the gymnasiums are as large as ever, which is a blessing). It was fun! And I'm totally out of shape! At least basketball shape.

After the games, a few of the 1 and 2nensei students made small speeches to the 3nensei, thanking them for their leadership and wishing them the best in the coming weeks. It was great to see. But the finale, a complete surprise to all, was the teacher's band performance. Once again, I was blown away by the effort that everyone was putting in to sending these kids off with best wishes. The moment was one of those that I look back to and think, "Yeah, this is perfect."

Since Higashi doesn't have a high school, all of the students will be attending elsewhere - some in Nago, some further south as far as Okinawa City. Those going to schools in Nago may still live in Higashi and commute with parents or friends, but for those moving farther, it may be their first time living by themselves. Sometimes, students find dormitory housing or their own apartments, and in some cases the whole family moves, depending on many factors, I'm sure.

Sometimes I forget that the 3nensei are only 15; they don't seem that young. But their graduating reminds me of how quickly it's all going. I'm here for another year, that's definite (even got the official word from the BOE!). And it's good to have these landmark occasions, reminding me to make sure I get the most out of it. After Okinawa, I want to be completely happy with whatever I choose, no regrets.