あそぼう

Today I went to a local preschool to play with the kids there. A former HUSA staffer was looking for volunteers to help sing English games, and since I had nothing else planned, I told her I'd go. I dont really care for children; the only experience I have with them is teaching them to swim, and even that I'm usually on edge. Although I was worn out from playing with the kids, I had a lot of fun, and wouldnt mind going again.

There were us four Americans, one Frenchman, and the guy from Indonesia. When we arrived at the preschool, I was amazed. It was the most ornate preschool I've ever been to. My preschool (Kaumana Baptist Keikiland in case you were wondering) was a very small one by comparison. There were maybe three classrooms, a kitchen, and a playground. Because it was run by a church, there was also a sanctuary, but we hardly played there. It was a tiny little place, and a bit on the old side. On the other hand, the preschool we went to (I dont remember its name) was a huge building, with two floors. After entering the genkan like area, there were a few rooms that I could see, as well as the staircase to get to the second floor. The second floor had multiple classrooms as well, and also a reading pit, where I suppose you could gather the children for a presentation of some sort. I've never gone on a preschool viewing trip, but the preschools I know are hardly comparable.

The structured part of the visit was rather short. We were told to introduce ourselves, saying our name, country of origin, and how to say "こんにちは konnichiwa" in that language. As Americans, it was easy, because most everyone speaks English these days. But I think French and Indonesian really threw them for a loop. After that, we sang some songs. One was about animals, and the different sounds they make. In case you didnt know, animals make different sounds, depending on what language you speak. For example, English speaking dogs say "bow wow" or "woof", but a Japanese dog will say "wan wan". Then we sang "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes", which was fun. I dont know if any of the kids learned any English from it, but it was good to move around, I suppose. Finally, we ended with "London Bridge is Falling Down", which I havent done in a long time. And when I say "I havent done it", it's because we were eventually included in the game. It was a bit uncomfortable, having to squat down to pass through the arms of the little children, but at least I only had five feet and four inches to deal with. One of the Americans is a lot closer to six feet than I am, and I have no idea how he managed to get down there.

After all that, the American I mentioned above read Momotaro to the kids. Because only one person was needed to read, the rest of us sat amongst the kids. This was the beginning of the hardest part, for me. I can read, sing, and even make crafts with kids with relatively little problems. But I dont play well with kids. I dont want to accidentaly drop a kid, so I dont pick them up, and in my old age, I just dont know what to do with kids. While we were sitting down, one of the boys decided I looked like a comfortable chair, and just sat on me. He wasnt heavy or anything, but with adults, you cant just sit on someone. And when you sit on them, you surely cant lean back into them, and force them into a reclining position. And yet, that's what the kid did to me. One of the Americans next to me mentioned that I looked terrified, and that was a pretty good description of what I was feeling. It's a good thing I know how that whole story goes, because I didnt hear a word of it. I was too busy trying not to scream about the kid sitting in my lap.

That concluded the structured part of our visit. For the next half hour or so, we were allowed to play in the playground with the kids. Although we all went willingly, we were more or less dragged there, with maybe two kids on each arm, and a couple more on various parts of our clothes. It was here that I learned an important lesson: Children are very difficult to understand if they speak a language you dont know. We later found out they wanted to play tag with us, but while they were trying to explain the game to us, none of us could understand what they were saying. As one of the other Americans pointed out, it didnt help that they didnt try to rephrase what we didnt understand, so it was the same jumble of sounds every time. I got a little frustrated because of this. Not angry, of course, but c'mon, these are kids, these arent exactly verbose soliloquies. I managed to get away from these group of kids because I was dragged to the jungle gym type thing. I watched them climb here and there, my heart skipping a beat every time one of them jumped down. I was so afraid that they would jump down and break a bone or something, but they really did enjoy themselves. While we were playing, they asked me all sorts of questions, like how old I was, or if of us were friends. A couple asked about my earrings, and were in awe of my industrial. I havent been a kid in such a long time, it was refreshing to spend some time with these children. Alas, the time came for us to leave, and we sadly did depart. As we put on our shoes, the kids asked us, "Will you be back again?", or "Please dont go!". I left a lot more reluctantly than I thought I would.

To answer their question, I dont think I will ever go back to the preschool. The staffer that organized this short little trip will soon be moving away from this part of Hiroshima, so she wont be going back. And the preschool itself is quite a bit aways from the university. I am told that my predecessor here enjoyed these trips so much he eventually became a volunteer there, but I dont think that will happen to me. While not an unpleasant experience, because it isnt so easy to get there, I dont think I can commit to making the trip very often. But I am happy that I took a chance and went along this one time. I had a lot more fun than I was expecting, and I'd like to think that I made some new, if tiny friends, at the school.