Calligraphy Lesson

Saturday 4 o'clock used to be a pure boys' class. Round, energetic R-kun always has several bags of different flavoured crisps with him and, ever since we learned how to describe amounts using ducks (a lot of ducks, some ducks, and a few ducks), uses every opportunity to sing a song about ducks that goes "Ahirun-run-run, ahi-run-run-run.." by which time he thinks of either the answer to what I've asked him or something else to do. He is bright, creative, and pleasant. And exceedingly lazy.
M-kun loves cars and wants to be a formula one driver. Every time I show him one of the horse cards I use to teach them "I want to brush him", "I want to pet him", "I want to feed him" etc, his eyes and torch-bright smile light up, and he says "Horsepower!"
A recent addition to the class is super-intelligent and studious N-chan, who wears a bright pink jacket and smart glasses. At first I thought the combination would bring problems, but it turns out that N-chan and the boys get on great. The boys admire her skills and sometimes focus a little bit more, while she gets some entertainment and some tasks that challenge her, which develop out of their rebellious creativity that has a constant tendency to sway from classroom contents. Such as using the study cards to build card houses. But if they are getting on well enough with our study targets, I let them sway, as long as it is productive and conducive to the learning atmosphere.
This time, I have a great lesson to teach. We are studying the words "English lesson", "piano lesson", "swimming lesson", "dance lesson" and "calligraphy lesson". R-kun does not show up. But N-chan and M-kun are there.
I act out the swimming lesson pulling a swim cap over my teacher's hairstyle, putting on goggles, and air-crawling around the classroom.
Then, my favourite, the dance lesson. I present this word by teaching them a few steps of ceilidh. And when the Dancing Strings of Scotland come streaming into the classroom from the ancient CD-player, we all hop and stomp and fly through the small space in front of the white board for a while. Blessed be the Military Two Step!
When our class is already over, I have a sudden impulse to digress again from the "English lesson" we're supposed to be finishing. I hold out two white board markers for them and scream: "Everybody to the white board! Calligraphy lesson!" Unexpectedly, the two are enthusiastic calligraphy students. Immediately, a wild kanji-writing marathon unfolds on my white board. I show them how I write "Anna" in Japanese, with anshin no an followed by Nara no na. They compete finding ways of writing my surname and agree on using seiza no za (sit) but have some trouble finding another na syllable, their best ideas being namae no na (name) and nana no na (seven). Then they show me how to write their names and several rather rude Japanese expressions such as baka, konyaro and aho. Carefully, I make notes of the complicated kanji in my head, for future reference. I erase aho, however, because it contains the first character I use for writing Anna, and I'm not happy about that.
M-kun proudly tells me that the second character in his name contains one part that means military, or fighting. N-chan consequently finds a different way of spelling his name using ki (wood). Although M-kun is impressed by N-chan's superior scholarly knowledge and watches in awe as she produces complicated kanji with her black marker pen, he now feels inspired to come up with some less flowery ways of writing HER name.
Trying to demonstrate some of his special kanji knowledge, he tells us about a character meaning Tang dynasty, or China that I happen to know very well. "Yes," I say, "this was once used for spelling karate." Not knowing the difference between tenses yet, and probably understanding rather little of what I say to them anyway, they protest that karate is spelled using "empty", not "China", but I explain to them that it wasn't always like that and that it changed around 1920. "Eeee?!" exclaims M-kun. "Nande sensei ha sonna koto shiterunya?" "Why does sensei know about something like that?" "Because I do karate." "HEEEEE?!" "Do you have a black belt?" asks N-chan. They speak Japanese, but at this stage I am looking for communication, and so are they, so I momentarily ignore my ban on giving away my Japanese skills at the school and answer in English. " Yes, I have a shodan." For a few seconds, they clamp their mouths shut and quietly marvel at this discovery. Then, N-chan giggles, and M-kun says: "Wow, that's scary!" I'm happy I'm finally enjoying some degree of respect from them and then have to make myself glance at the clock on the wall. Unfortunately I have to dismiss them as my next class is about to start, and we're already 20 mintues over our actual 50 minute class time.
But they leave with an appetite, which is always the perfect time to leave, and I thank the 8 million gods of Japan for this treat. Although N-chan probably still hates having to pronounce the word "calligraphy lesson", I now have no doubt both she and M-kun will remember it. And as for me, while I was supposed to be giving an English lesson, I actually got a calligraphy lesson. It is the most pleasant feeling of all when, being a teacher, you suddenly turn into a student, and your students into teachers. This is when I get a feeling of communication, education, fruitful exchange, and success.
So, this morning, wrapped up in my quilts on my futon, waiting for the room to get warm, I took out my kanji book and started studying for the Japanese proficiency test I am planning to take by the end of the year. So, N-Sensei and M-Sensei! Arigatou gozaimashita!