i am what puffy likes to eat.

I want to help all of you to understand how strange both Japan and my job are. Here are some of the things I have been told to say in class in the last few days:

"Constipated! Constipated! Constipated!"
"I always cover my dung." "I always cover my dung."
"I am what Puffy likes to eat." "I am what Puffy likes to eat."

I didn't dare ask who, or what, a Puffy was. The whole sentence sounded wrong. But I was supposed to be a crab. That much I was sure of. I'm thinking Puffy might have been Buffy, from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Does anyone watch that show? Does Puffy like crab?

Now I'm going to tell you the story of constipated!

Due to senior graduation, my schedule has been completely turned on its head and I am now teaching with 3 English JTEs with whom I have never taught before. One of these people is insane. This story isn't about him though. One of these teachers is the new bright and shiny part of my day. Here's the only photo I have of him (which may give you an idea of why he is AWESOME).

On Friday we went to 2-6 together. I walk in. Class hasn't started yet. He tells me, onaka ga itai (my stomach hurts). Oh, I'm sorry I say. He turns back to the podium and leans on it, tapping his fingers restlessly and staring out at the class as they chatter amongst themselves. A few moments pass in silence, as I stand next to him and stare out at the class as well. From the serious look on his face I pick up with a quick peripheral glance, I assume we are contemplating their education, their futures, the fate of Okinawan... but then he turns back to me, blinks from behind his glasses and says in dead seriousness,

"I have diarrhea."

Ehhh, oh. I stutter back. He takes that as words of condolence, he nods, turns back out to face the class and exclaims in Japanese, "I have diarrhea!" "I have diarrhea, today my stomach doesn't feel good! Gas!"

Oh, too bad. The kids are in sympathy. Right, they don't seem to think this is weird. Then they start talking in Fast Japanese (a language I don't speak well) for a few minutes. Sensei turns back to me and says,

Yes, can you please write it on the board?

Uhhh, write what? I stutter again.

Diarrhea, yes please could you please give us the spelling? He nods encouragingly.

Well, you all know my spelling abilities. Like, as if each one of these blog entries doesn't get spell-checked twice and still have mistakes. I tell him I don't actually know how to spell that.

More Fast Japanese with students.

How about the other one? He queries. You know, Hand motions at his rear-end, then stomach and a bit of a batsu X made with his hand. Then ... No!

Luckily, I have become very good at figuring such speech out. Don't think that time has been spent in vain, ha!

Constipated? I ask.

Yes! That's right! Can you please share with us the spelling of that word on the board?

Suuuuuuure I can! I pick up a piece of pink chalk and write CONSTIPATED in giant block letters. Everyone stares at it.

Con-, conpi-, consuto-, conupa-, consuchi- Sensei tries to pronounce the word a few times in vain. The kids are also looking at it as if it is a habu snake.

Please, Joyce. You will read for us? Well, ok!

This is how I find myself shouting, "constipated!" "constipated!" "constipated!"

Everyone, try to repeat after Joyce! Sensei shouts, clearly enjoying himself (but not for any of the obvious reasons. Simply because we are learning new vocabulary).

I watch a sea of 30 kids frunch their brows and chorus, "conusuchipeeeto!"
Over. And over. And over again.

Wait, it gets better. Then sensei decides we need to practice this new word. He goes down the rows of students and one by one, asks each of them,

"[name], are you constipated?" Followed by a friendly smile and fatherly blink from behind his glasses. "No, I'm not constipated" answered each student. Until we got to the third row. Then, the kid in front answered, "Yes! I'm constipated!" Oh, the honesty. It kills me.

Tell me readers: what would happen in your respective cultures if an uncool, lanky kid in glasses in the front row said "I am constipated!" in front of the entire class? Not what happened here (and don't worry for not having figured out that this was coming, if you didn't. I wasn't expecting it at the time either).

You are?! Yes!!! Cries the teacher. Everyone claps. You are a winner, he informs the child. But hold on. We continue up and down the rows, just to make sure that no more constipated winners are lurking amongst us. As the last boy answers, "no I am not constipated," the teacher whirls around, races back to Lanky Glasses, grabs his arm and yanks him to his feet with a fist in the air shouting "You are the Champion! You are the champion!" and we have another round of applause, plus a few giggles from the kids who are with me on this one (surprisingly few).

What do you think this kid won? No don't guess, it's wrong. After all the cheers he got for not drinking his 8 cups a day, he got quite a disappointing prize. He got sent up to the front of the class to be blessed with a 2-minute real-life ekaiwa (English conversation) practice session with me.

Despite some suggestive eyebrow raises from sensei, I resolutely refused to utilize our new vocabulary and ask the child whether he was constipated during our chat.

Here's a picture of this class. Maybe it will help you understand more about them: