Class 76: Field Notes

Today I tried to prompt my most apathetic class to write poetry in English. As luck or not would have it, it was also the day the directors of Oberlin Shansi chose to observe my class. Deb and Carl (my American bosses, in essence) arrived in Tokyo on Saturday and since then have spent their time at Obirin checking in on Malcolm, Stephanie (the two new Shansi fellows who replaced Mike) and I. This afternoon they took us out for lunch and insisted I drink my fair share of wine before class (now I understand why some teachers enjoy a stiff shot of something before teaching).

When introducing my students to poetry, I included one famous haiku written by Matsuo Basho:

The old pond:
A frog jumps in--
The sound of water.

One student, Aya, raised her hand and asked, in Japanese:

"Sarah, do you understand this poem? I thought gaijin (lit. 'outsiders,' meaning any category of foreigner besides Japanese) don't understand haiku."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Gaijin don't understand the Japanese 'wabi-sabi' spirit, do they?" ('wabi-sabi' is basically the aesthetic of all things transient and imperfect; it also refers to beauty found in nature and the natural cycle of life).

"Of course we can understand," I replied. "We're all human, right?"

Human we are, and here are the most human poems from Class 76:

The mountain is orange
That look like
orange curtain.

The ground is yellow.
That look like
yellow mat.

I was wrapped
by fall.
--Yukiko

Many trees wear
red, yellow and orange
clothes.
I feel cool when tree
feel cold too. Why??
Tree lost clothes.
Next tree's clothes
is white clothes.
this is very beautiful.
--Yurie

And here are a few of the less inspiring:

I like autumn.
Because, eat many food!!
But, My body is fat!!
--Sayaka

fall day
have a mass meeting
hard
--Hiroki