Goodbye Mr. Chips (and beans)
It was a sad day today over at Japanese Confetti, as both Sally and I said goodbye to students that we've taught for the full two years we've been in Japan. It wasn't the last scheduled lesson, but the end of the school year is playing havoc with attendance, and so a lot of students won't be able to make the last class. And thus it was I said goodbye to Yuki*, the second student I ever taught, and the first student of mine who didn't run screaming into a pile of cushions upon seeing me.
Yuki was a curious little fellow; his mother used to dress him up like a preppy extra from a Wes Anderson movie, which, coupled with his round face and old man haircut, lent him a certain gravitas not usually associated with a seven year old child. A gravitas that was all but destroyed the first time he let rip with the ripest, most evil smelling fart this side of a field full of dying cows. Usually Yuki, adhering to the universal principle of 'The next person who speaks is the person who reeks'** would keep silent about his many downstairs explosions. However, sensing that my time in Japan was short, he decided to up the ante last week by turning around and deliberately cutting the cheese into my face. I didn't know whether to stand and applaud or break every bone in his tiny body, so I settled for bashing him over the head with a cushion.
Thus begins two weeks of having my heart broken again and again by a bunch of snotty nosed germ factories in gumboots and silly yellow hats. Sad frowny face goes here ---->.
*Not his real name, because his real name is too hilarious and you'd think I was making it up.
**Japanese translation would be appreciated.
