Crazy 24 Hours

After explaining Halloween to a group of beautiful, wide-eyed Japanese girls who understood about 20% of my language, my team-teaching partner decided we had to plan the rest of the semester in one day. So I didn't leave work until about 7 pm, when my work hours end technically at 4 pm. But no big deal.

Then John insisted we hike to the grocery store in the freezing wind. I cursed him then but thanked him later when I had real food to cook.

After that, I was swept away by some Japanese friends who took me to the top of an unnamed mountain in an undisclosed location for a night-view of our city from many miles away. Very romantic. But the evening would not be complete without an arcade visit, where we spent most of the time taking those ridiculous tiny pictures kids like to stick on notebooks. We put so many fake stars, hearts, bubbles, and cherry blossoms on the digital printous that you can hardly see us. But if you're in Japan, you can't pass up the chance to play in a photo booth -- especially one big enough for three people. I came home happy and exhausted.

Then I got up for a day I'd been dreading for a long time. I'm not proud of that statement, but it is true nonetheless. I had to teach at a school for mentally and physically handicapped children. I will visit 9 more times before the end of the year, teaching kids of various ages with various disabilities. I have no clue what I'm doing.

This morning I was surprised to enter a beautiful, gleaming facility that was 5 times cleaner (and larger) than my own. Students clean my school, like most places in Japan...so you can imagine how humbling it was to learn that the handicapped kids are the ones responsible for their school, too. It was incredible.

Like almost all my experiences in Japan, I arrived unsure of what to expect, but was immediately comforted by the warmth and friendliness of Japanese people. The other teachers were so kind and appreciative of my time (once again, a humbling experience) and the children seemed thrilled to see me. They were so beautiful. I don't remember the last time I saw such raw, genuine, unguarded smiles. One little girl couldn't speak to me, so I timidly reached out to touch her hand. (The teachers were encouraging me to shake hands, "English-style.") I was afraid she'd withdraw because 1) I don't look Japanese, 2) I was a stranger, and 3) my hands were incredibly cold. But when I touched her hand, the smile that melted across her face made me burst into tears. I was so embarrassed and angry at myself for thinking that these children were so different and so less fortunate than I am. Before I met them, I pitied them. Many of them lead difficult lives, yes. But so many of them were happy, and responsive, and so real they couldn't have been anything but beautiful. The elementary kids were thrilled to shout out numbers and even more excited when I gave them stickers for it. I even got to use some Japanese and speak with them during lunch. ("What are you doing tomorrow? Is that delicious? Mine is delicious too! Do you like school? Do you like soccer?") And after that, I went outside to watch them ride bikes on the playground. They organized races by themselves, and I helped them count down to "blast off!" in English...

All in all, my day was tense and definitely exhausting. But the way I felt was so different from what I expected: I didn't feel sorry for these kids. I felt grateful because they were making me smile.

And if there were ever any doubts in my mind, today just reinforced the fact that if I have children, I'm gonna be one fierce mother. I'm terrified that I'll love my kids so much I just won't know what to do with myself.

Phew! I've got a while. :)