In the Club

Earlier this week I had the great pleasure of attending Gonohe Junior High school's 23^rd annual Judo Takai (competition). Offering Judo in schools has been strongly encouraged by the Japanese government recently in an attempt to promote indigenous sports, and I was personally pleased when I discovered that the education authorities in Gonohe had heeded the politicians' nationalistic call. The event itself was quite a spectacle, with around 60 students drawn from the three grades knocking the shit out of each other to try and win the title of 'School Judo Champion'. At any one time three fights would be taking place, and I can assure you that the students certainly weren't shy about getting physical, there were spotty teens being chucked about right, left and centre. As can only be expected, a few of the quieter students proved reluctant to give it their all when fighting the cooler kids. There were, however, a few plucky young characters who did manage to muster the necessary courage to take on the school Trendocrats – a readily identifiable group of surly teens, noted for their intensely preened hair, severely plucked eyebrows and an amusing tendency to wear their trousers half way down their arses. I have to confide that I drew considerable satisfaction when this happened, finally getting a chance to watch some of the most irritating kids from third grade getting thrashed in a way that I can only dream of doing to them.

Although my involvement in the day went no further than acting as a spectator, I actually left the tournament a little battered and bruised myself. As I sat on the floor observing one particularly exciting match, which pitted the previous year's champion against a strong contender from the same year group, I suddenly felt a violent impact against my left shoulder which caused my entire body to lurch forward. Before I had time to even think about reacting a second blow fell, this time it was my right shoulder that had been targeted. As fast as I could I swung round to try and catch the culprit before a 3^rd blow could be inflicted upon me. But when I turned round I was surprised to discover that my phantom thrasher was in fact a student, a young girl who quickly explained that she was simply treating me to a shoulder massage. The student in question evidently interpreted the term “massage” in the loosest possible way, as the experience that followed was rather akin to having an angry male gorilla thumping you on back repeatedly. Quite why the student, a third grader of dubious mental faculties, decided it was a good idea to sneak up behind me and started punching my shoulders violently I will never know. However, the custom of students giving teachers massages is not all that unusual in Japan, and to be honest it's also not really that surprising that teachers are in need of massages here, not given the amount of time they spend teaching club activities.

In Japan the school day usually finishes between 3:30 and 4:00, varying according to the school, yet virtually no students will go home at this time. This is because Japanese schools are expected to offer a range of after-school club activities for the students, covering sports, music and art. You shouldn't be confused, however, by thinking that these clubs are anything like what you'd expect back home. Club acitvities aren't just about larking about with your mates and climbing all over the school gymnastic equipment while the PE teacher is in the toilet: in Japanese schools club activities are serious stuff. Once the students arrive in first grade they are required to choose which club they want to be a member of; once they have decided, that will be the club they remain in until they leave school at the end of third grade.

You see Japanese people don't take adopting a pastime lightly; if you choose a hobby, then that becomes your thing; you buy the best equipment you can possibly afford, you practice as much as is humanly possible in your free time, and you never, ever, stray from your chosen pursuit by taking up some other hobby. As a result Japanese people tend to be ridiculously good at whatever pastime they have decided to fill their free time with, something which I discovered when I mistakenly made the decision to try joining in with the school basketball club one day after school.

One Thursday I decided that I wanted to get to know some of my students better outside the context of the classroom, so I asked one of the teachers if I could maybe join in with the basketball club for a day. The teacher agreed so I headed for the school gym to join my students. Once there the team coach immediately instructed us to begin a harsh regime of training exercises which the students were expected to do every day. There was no laughs or smiles from the kids, just a lot of sweat and numerous determined looking young faces. Almost immediately my piss-poor abilities became clear to all, as I ran about the court erratically, barely managing to control the ball. Things went from bad to worse when I accidentally knocked, not one, but 3 first graders in a row to the ground as they tried to get the ball off me. The coach looked both bemused and slightly disturbed by the presence of this lumbering foreigner who was taking out his prized players one-by-one. After about an hour of intense training he decided to call me over for a chat, during which time the kids actually had a proper game. For around half an hour the coach and I made some small talk about Scotland, covering the staple themes of whisky and Nessie, and then, unfortunatelly, the clock dictated that I had to leave, as it was time for me to catch the next bus back home.

The following week I came along to try my hand at basketball once more, but it was a similar run of events, and yet again the coach called me to one side to have another - and essentially exactly the same - strategically timed chat about Scotland. It was then that the reality dawned upon me that training was as far as I was going to get in this particular club. The coach was clearly trying to get me off the court so the kids could play, as tactfully as he could. And so it was that those 2 visits became my one and only foray into the curious world of club activities. I guess that while my brutal massage at the Judo Takai showed that being a spectator does not always ensure safety from injury, I came to learn that my non-participation in school sports is definitely in my the students' best interest.