The Official Graduation

Last week was a six-day week for me, because I had to go in Saturday morning for the third grade graduation. I wore my suit for the first day in Japan. I packed it up before heading out here, and proceeded to be terrified to wear it until graduation. Of course, all the English-speaking teachers made jokes and compliments ("Oh, I didn't know you owned a tie!," "Why don't you dress so well every day?," etc.).

As I've said before, Japanese people seem to have a penchant for ritual and ceremony. Both were paid painful attention to for the entire graduation. The ceremony opened with the Japanese national anthem, Kimi ga yo, which is a bit of a topic in Japan. It was written about the emperor at the height of war-time, imperial Japan, and as such brings up many bad feelings and memories for the more modern and pro-democratic population. Basically, it seems like old people still like it, because they grew up with it, and perhaps miss the pre-war days. And young and middle-aged people hate it, but because of the pressure to respect their elders, they submit to the aged. Interestingly, I was very touched to hear it sung by a gymnasium full of people. It really is a beautiful song, even if it has questionable content.

Moving on, it seemed like the first 30 minutes of the ceremony were touching for me. I was watching all the graduating students walk in with their class, bow and take their seats as a class for the last time. Immediately after this, I became so bored that I could hardly believe it. Speech after speech from god-knows-who. And before every speech, the announcer called out "Shakuin, kiritsu, rei, chaku seki," (or, "employees, stand at attention, bow, take your seat,"). ...And after every speech. ...For over an hour. It was pretty hard going.

The end of the ceremony was the heart-wrencher. The students were called by class, to stand up, bow, and walk out together. One by one, they got up, shouted "arigatou gozaimasu!" together and filed out into the rainy, hazey day. Every single arigatou gozaimasu pressed a wave of tears into my eyes, though I succeeded in maintaining my composure. It was still a moment I won't easily forget.

After saying their goodbyes and making their preparations, after the students all readied themselves for the trip home, they filed through the gauntlet of teachers and parents, shouting "Good job!", "Good luck!", "Try hard, okay!?" etc. I made a point of seeking out some of my favorite students. It does bother me to think that I may never see these kids again, because they'll be so busy getting into their new highschools over the next few months that I won't have much of a chance to run into them, and I'm leaving at the end of July.

There was one student in particular that I wanted to give a heartfelt goodbye to. Remember School Sports Day, back in October? Before that day, I felt so alone in Japan. I felt like the students and I just couldn't connect, and couldn't find a common language to express ourselves. But, the leader of my color team helped me and cheered with me, and showed me how to participate in all of the events. He really helped me get over the initial barrier of loneliness that I found in Japan.
So, when I saw him leaving the school, I called him over to me. He began to cry immediately, which didn't exactly make me feel wonderful. But, I told him that I would miss him and never forget him, and that he was the first friend I ever made in Japan, and that I couldn't thank him enough for being so kind. ...And he lost it. His English is very good, so he could follow what I told him, and he began to weep. Even though hugging is viewed very strangely in Japan, we just hugged and he cried for a while.

I wanted to talk more about this, but I'm not sure what else to say. I've met a few amazing kids, and I'm really genuinely proud to have helped them with their studies and gain confidence in their speaking. But, this specific boy will always be my friend, and I'll always remember his kindness. And, although I knew this about myself, I suppose I just discovered that maybe he felt the same way toward me. Maybe those tears were his recognition that I gave him something worth keeping. In any case, it almost feels too private to discuss in any more length. Until next time.