So Long and Thanks for the Baseball

I had to actually go back and check the last time I wrote in the blog. It says I had an entry on the 20th July but I can assure it seems so much longer ago. Things have moved very quickly in the last week or so and I’ll write another entry about my new job but I did want to wrap up things with respect to Ichiko before moving on.

So I ‘officially’ finished at Ichiko on the 20th July. I say ‘officially’ because from what I could determine from my contract I was actually supposed to keep going in until yesterday. However, I had so much holiday time saved up and since there was nothing to do I only popped in for two days last week (24rd and 25th) to pick up all my stuff and give some goodbye presents to the English staff. As such the 20th was basically the end of it all.

As I noted previously, I was to give a farewell speech at the closing assembly in front of all 600 students and teachers. Unbeknownst to me at the time was another farewell speech I was to deliver to just the teachers (there are about 30–40 staff). It didn’t quite have the pressure of the former, though, and turned out fine in the end. For the former, I did end up getting Kokubu-sensei to help me write a speech in Japanese. I spent most of Thursday practising it as best I could before coming home. As Rui, who wasted no time in telling me when I sought her opinion, said, though, my pronunciation steadfastly remained somewhere between ‘awful’ and ‘terrible’. After furtive attempts at improving my speed and then after I cut it down a little subsequent to Rui’s informative critique (‘No one will understand anything you say’) I put it to one side, resolving to do my best and be happy with that. The staff speech I decided to wing.

There were no classes on that day so after the regular morning meeting everyone trooped off to the gymnasium for some inspiring final words before the freedom of the summer holidays arrived. I discovered much to my delight (read: not my delight) that I was to be first after a brief introduction by the principal. Before I knew it I was up on stage, standing at the podium with most of the students at least feigning attention. I no longer have the English version of the speech so I’m afraid I can’t transcribe it for you. Suffice to say, I thanked everyone, told the students I didn’t like their school initially, told the students I grew to like their school, told them I felt happy when I realised people were saying ‘hello’ to me without prompting, and finally hoped we could all continue communicating.

I’d like to say that at the end of the speech students jumped up, threw their hats into the air and burst into applause. That would be cheesy, number one, and number two, a lie. The students quite politely applauded, though, and I think some of them might have even understood my mangled Japanese. After attempting to depart as quickly as possible I was ordered back on stage where I was presented with a bouquet of flowers on behalf of the student body. This is the first time I’ve ever received a bouquet of flowers and I must say I understand what all the fuss is about. Men should receive more of these things.

After my speech the assembly dragged on for about another hour (or maybe it just felt that long in the heat) before everyone was dismissed. The teachers had a subsequent meeting, during which I successfully managed to thank the teachers without insulting their mothers, and then that was it. What was I all worried about? I don’t know. I always get worried about these things. I even think some of the students might have taken what I said to heart because after my speech I was deluged with ‘hellos’ and general greetings wherever I went.

The best surprise of the day, though, was when the baseball coach and the team managers came around to the English staffroom to give me a goodbye present. I’m not a baseball fan by any stretch of the imagination but I quite liked the student who was the manager and so attended two of their games during the semester. This seems like something teachers never ever do because every time I turned up students were shocked I would come out to school to see them play. Well, as further thanks I was presented with a baseball by the coach. I don’t know why this really meant that much to me. Maybe it’s years of watching American television such that I have ingrained in my consciousness the significance of the baseball as a symbol. Who knows? Either way, I was quite glad to receive it.

I also received a final visit from one of my 3–Interior students. She gave me some soft plushy toys as a going away present which I thought was quite sweet. We even had something approaching a conversation and she ordered me to come back to school for her graduation and present her with a bouquet of flowers. I’m not sure if I’ll still be in Japan next February but if I am I’ve decided I’ll definitely swing by.

So that’s it. Over. Fini. Done. And it already seems so long ago. As you may already have gathered from these blog entries my feelings towards Ichiko are quite complicated. When I came on the JET Programme I came expecting to be sent to several junior high schools. I hoped I might be sent to some elementary schools as well. Instead I was sent for the entirety of my stay here to one vocational senior high school. And then spent a great deal of time sitting around with nothing to do. On the one hand I’m upset about what, in some ways, feels like a wasted year. On the other, I do feel like I’ve connected with some of the students and let’s face it, if any students needed to see a foreign face it would be students like this who are unlikely (for the most part) ever to go overseas or meet foreigners in their work. I still think the ideal solution would have been to had me based at Ichiko and then to have sent me out to other schools one or two days a week but what can you do? You could write an essay, I suppose, but I’ve already done that.

So it’s all over and JET joins high school, university and Pizza Hut as things that are all behind me. One thing I can’t get over is how fast it’s gone. Is this going to be what it’s like the rest of my life? Over in the blink of an eye? No wonder people remember their childhood fondly. Time at least seemed to mean something then.