The wind is blasting through Hitachinaka and rustling the trees outside my window. Meanwhile the sun is burning itself out on the Western horizon, sending streaks of gold and neon red across my floor just before it dies away. Some kids bike by and shout to each other, Japanese words I can't understand but the sound of carefree kids is universal. It's Friday. Tomorrow I'll be up at 6:40am to dress, eat, and walk to Sano Elementary School by 7:30, when they'll begin preparations for Sports Festival. It promises to be a long Saturday. For now, though, both windows in my apartment are open, the overcast sky is fading to purple and blue, and cool wind smelling of the earlier passing storm is wafting into my bedroom.
It's the kind of evening that makes me want to fall asleep early, and after a week of teaching, it's no wonder I'm tired. The week was good, though. Not great, but not bad. Monday's school is full of students who are allergic to listening, but Tuesday through Friday I have classes of kids who sit up, listen, and repeat any nonsense I throw at them. They've all been hot, tired, and hungry this week from practicing for Sports Festival. All the schools have presentations and opening ceremonies full of acrobatics, flags, cheers, and songs, so the kids have been outside half the week standing in line, marching around, and shouting various things in unison. In addition, air conditioning is a limited resource, so open windows and blowing fans are the most the schools will do to combat the warmth and rising humidity of midday. My kids have been looking at me with tired eyes and heat-pinked faces, wondering why I'm making them recite the 12 months in English. Again.
They're troopers, my kids.
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