As soon as those kids finish lunch, clean up, and brush their teeth, they slip out of their in-side shoes and into their outside one's. So far, my recess experience has mostly been comprised of me joining any random grouping of kids, typically whoever grabs me first, and from there, attempting as best I can to interpret what exactly they have planned for me to do.
Some times I'll be ambushed by seventeen third graders wanting me to play soccer with them. Other times I'll suddenly have five or six first grade girls hanging on my legs and arms with no purpose other than to be...well, hanging on me. Every day so far I've had at least ten little girls come up right by me, stop, tag me, take six quick steps away from me, turn around and stare at me... and then hope that that'd be enough to entice me to chase them.
Still, there are other times where I am happily herded in some strange and foreign game of which I have no clue how to play. That doesn't matter though, the kids just dig me being there.
One thing Carmon and I have quickly found out - If you don't look Japanese and you live in Japan, you're kind of a novelty.
Despite my inability to speak Japanese, I've managed, albeit through much trial and error, to understand most of the games the kids play. But there is one game I've needed no introduction to.
DODGEBALL
(fun AND dangerous)
So the main reason I'm writing this post tonight is because of a horrifying and hilarious experience that happened today at recess. Well, maybe not so hilarious.
It was just like every other recess so far. The large dirt field provided no shelter from the scorching sun which further established my farmers tan and sweat stains. And if the heat weren't enough you have the extreme brightness of it all that keeps me consistently squinting. It's like the white dirt doubles as a mirror or something. The constant sea of motion from the blue red and white hats could almost be viewed as therapeutic if it weren't for the contesting screams, laughter, and "MAISON SENSEI!"'s (admittedly, I really love hearing that).
Today's game was dodgeball. A favorite of mine and the kids. Except today the game somehow went from dodgeball to "Let's just throw the ball in the Soccer goal." I obliged. About ten kids acted as goalies, taunting us "throwers" to try and get the ball past them.
Well, I've made this rule for myself to not ever, EVER, actually throw the ball as hard as I can. You know, so I don't accidentally murder a child. However, during our game, all of us were getting pretty pumped up and rowdy. And as the game progressed I kept moving further and further away from the goal when throwing --- the kids think I'm the hulk when they see me throw halfway across the field. It's awesome.
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| "Let's ENGLISH!" |
Anyway, so we're playing, having fun, and the kids have me moved so far back from the goal that there's no chance I'm gonna get the ball in there. So I start thinking...
"I should just throw the ball as hard as I can and totally make it in! The kids would eat that up!"
What? There's nothing wrong with that, right? I mean, I'm totally away from any kids I can see and by the time the ball makes it anywhere near the goal it will have lost most of it's momentum. What's the risk?
Please keep in mind I don't know anything about physics. So...
I break my rule.
I throw the ball.
I throw it HARD.
It's one of those old school rubber P.E. balls with more air in it than a brand new Firestone tire.
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| You know what I'm talk'n 'bout... |
(the following all happened under half a second)
The ball leaves my hand and instantly yields a much lower trajectory angle than anticipated.
I worry. Apparently I had forgotten (till this instant) there's over 500 children running any and every direction all over the field.
Horrifyingly, a small child runs somewhere between me and the goal.
.00087 seconds later...
...Contact.
The ball hit's this little boy's head dead center in the side of the face.
Instantly, he hits the ground, uncertain if he'd been shot or hit by a train.
I'm freaking out. Like, "Oh no I've killed a kid." So I run to him as quick as I can and the boys on all fours with one hand cupping the side of his head. I say, "Daijobu?" "Sumimasen!" "Gomennasai!" "Daijobu?" Which is as close to "Are you ok, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" as I can get in Japanese.
The kid definitely wanted to cry but he was super tough and didn't want to do it in front of everyone so he just sucked it up and joined the game! The boy reluctantly assured me he was ok but I think he was so taken by surprise he didn't know what to think.
NOTE: For all you worries out there, he was fine. I had my eye on him the rest of the day and made sure he was feeling fine before recess was over.
Moral of the story:
Don't ever break your one rule.
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| Especially Batman |
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