There's More Than One Way to Cut a Watermelon

A lot of my days go down kind of like this. Keep in mind, it's only because school doesn't restart again until Sept. 1st.


This is a picture of my desk at work. that big sign has my name written on it, cuz no one can remember it.

Today at work I was invited to Junko-sensei's homeroom BBQ. Though unsure of what this would entail, I gave a hearty grin and uttered the one phrase that will get you anywhere in Japan, "daijoubu desu!" (meaning A-OK, I'm down if you are, sure thing, it's fine, no problem, don't worry… etc) I guess this was official school business so we grabbed a school van and 9 students, and set off. We went to a tropical beach on the side of the highway where we'd rented tables and a grill, and cooked out, played volleyball, and swam for like 6 hours. The kids cooked. I'll tell ya, even the younguns here can whip up an awesome yakisoba in a heartbeat.

The most exciting part of this day for me was the watermelon episode. Someones mom had brought us a watermelon (they cost like 12 bucks here so it was really nice of her) and it came time to eat it. I can't understand most of what goes on in Japanese here, so I watched in some confusion as the kids screeched and played rock-paper-scissors (a national game; indeed, its said that various important political decisions have been made this way, gulp) as if their lives depended on it. Then everyone gathered around the watermelon, gazing at it and making complex hand motions. I offered up my pocketknife, thinking that the problem was a lack of cutting utensil (yes, after living in southern Germany, I now carry around a pocket knife everywhere I go! Thanx, Burki). "No no, that's not it, not necessary!" Junko sensei exclaims in excitement, gesturing wildly in all directions as the watermelon is placed in the ground and a space is cleared. I furrow my brow. A lone 3-nensei (12th grader) approaches the melon. "We will cut watermelon, Okinawan style, ne!" Sensei cries over her shoulder to me, as the kids all crowd her around the circle. I peek over their heads in growing confusion, but with a heightened sense that something monumentous and thrilling is about to happen. I am not disappointed. The lone student kneels next to the melon, breathes for a second, and then WHAM! Like a lightening bolt, raises his arms and KARATE CHOPS the melon open. Is this normal behavior here? I may never know, since watermelons are $12 a pop.


I love you, Japan. Nothing else left to say.