yakuza, kindy and nationalist propoganda

where stealing internet at my old apartment required hours of standing, the balcony of my new apartment allows me a chair and an inside look at the workings of my neighborhood. given its reputation as a yakuza neighborhood, this should be much more interesting. i see the occasional motorcycle and shiny cadillac, but nothing that lives up to bad-boy reputation that the yaks have.

when i told my boss, honda-san that i was moving to imieke, he said "i do not recommend" but it's pretty tame. there is a yakuza club down the street but it's completely silent, like a silver fortress surrounded by tinted black escalades. as i've mentioned, reputation is a lot for japanese, so i found it funny that i was dissuaded from living here when my old neighborhood, kanayama, is where the yakuza actually party.

this doesn't even account for the droves people -a few homeless scattered among wasted businessmen- sleeping on the benches in a swanky shopping center. one homeless lady who had a killer spot right by the bridge on the outskirt of the mall. she wore a different outfit everyday, always had cigarettes and recieved visitors (who were suprisingly well dressed, i might add) who squatted in her little area, joining her for tea- which she made with her range. (not sure how she powered it, but i swear i saw a rice cooker there too... i know. i don't get it either). i actually looked for her today as i passed kanayama on the train to my morning kindy class. i could barely see her gray hair behind the white fence, but i could make out a little something huddled there and i don't know why, but i was comforted.

i rode the train through kanayama and went to taiko kindy for my first morning class. i have been dreading these because jlittles have a terrible reputation for the koncho: when two fingers are aggressively trust into the bum of an unsuspecting adult. up to now, i've taught littles in manageable numbers (like 6...which was tough), but today it was a lot- 4 classes of 30 followed by my regular 2 classes: 3 and then 7 littles.

first class of the day: i am seated on the floor getting my CD for the Hokey Pokey cued up, when a young jlittle approaches and sneezes on me. i am understandably disoriented and a little grossed out when a younger, seemingly innocent jlittle girl walks up and flashed me (which is a little weird because her cooch was at eye level and way too close to my face). so i stand up to gain my distance, at which point she punches me in the vagina. yes, you heard it.

so now i have officially been punched in the vagina twice! the day continues like this with a few bits of "kawaii" stuck in there. at one point, i completely loose control of my class of 30. they are chasing each other, screaming, touching colors and skidding across the floors into furniture. the official sensei has one in her arm upside down while comforting another, cooing , "daijabu?"

i look around- the scene is absolutely absurd. so absurd in fact that i laugh out loud. " this is a disaster," i say aloud, knowing no one can understand me anyway. i walk to the far side of the room, remembering what i learned as a teacher in miami: you can never be louder than a class of kids. when you want to get their attention, speak softly.

i sit, tucking my legs under my butt and sing the itsy bitsy spider- walking the spider with my fingers, twisting and touching, while singing as softly as i can. a few almond eyes flicker my way and slowly they start to kneel around me, enthralled with my fingers and alien words. they gather around like a little flock of lambs, mimicking my fingers and hand motions. i start to laugh again.

so now there is a truck passing through my neighborhood blaring noise that's supposed to be music. it sounds like the islamic call to prayer in turkey, but not as pretty. i can't tell if it's nationalist propaganda or someone selling sweet potatoes, but the sound is harsh and unappealing. whatever it is, it's too much for me right now and too chilly on the balcony.