Bunkasai
My Year of Requirement wasn’t all academics and PE. There were
some arts-ish things too. One was “Bunkasai.” When I first heard about it, I
didn’t get it. Culture festival? Cultural festival? Culture? Which one? Medival
Europe? Classical Greece? Ming Dynasty China? Well, apparently, what was
supposed to happen was stuff that wasn’t academics and wasn’t sports. So, band,
visual arts, drama, home ec club and science club got to showcase what they
were doing, plus each class worked on some kind of project. ("Arts festival" might have been a better name for it, but it wasn't exactly art. Science is, well, science, and Home Ec and Shop are Home Ec and Shop.) One class did a
haunted house. Another made an original 15-minute movie, complete with their
own script. Another made a makeshift planetarium with black trash bags and an
overhead projector (remember those?) Our class researched local foods. We called
local candy and food businesses to schedule visits and interview people about
origins, ingredients, production, and such. We presented our findings in poster
format.
(People familiar with Japanese anime might
have read stuff about beauty pageants and cafes. Beauty pageants are a
university thing. Yes, I said “are.” In this day and age, universities are
parading women to be judged for their looks. I mean, seriously. Cafes were not
permitted because they involved serving food, which the local Health Department
didn’t allow JHS students to do.)
Now, this is in the mid ‘80s. Posters (especially
posters in a language that didn’t use a phonetic alphabet like Japanese) meant
handwritten posters. The kids with nice handwriting did a lot of the work.
They’d (understandably) cry foul. If you knew better, you’d kind of ignore them
hoping they’d calm down. But if you didn’t, like me, and meant well, like me,
you might volunteer to do some of the handwriting work. If you’ve seen my English handwriting, you
know it’s not too bad. Not breathtakingly
beautiful, but neat. Legible. So you might be surprised to know my Japanese
handwriting is pretty bad. Legible, but not nice by any means. So I’d meant
well, but the poster didn’t turn out as nicely as everyone hoped, and they let
me know they were disappointed. Um, ok. Next time, remind me not to try to be
nice or fair.
I was in drama club (shut up) and I had a
little part in the play we put on. It was a 20-minute performance and pretty
much the only performance we did all year. The audience was reasonably
respectful. No one messed up. It went all right. Band (wood and brass ensemble)
played a few pieces. They were pretty good. Not spectacular by Japanese
standards, but good. Probably would have blown away most US high school bands,
but the band from my school in Suburbia was pretty put together, so they don’t
count.
One thing that really surprised me is that
they had band performances. Like, rock band. Like drums and electric guitars
and synthesizers. Bands that wanted to perform in the festival auditioned in
front of the teachers. Those who passed the audition were allowed to perform in
front of the whole school. The audition was mostly about whether the kids had
decent grades and attendance and behavior.
Which brings us to the outlaws of the
school. Every culture has its outlaws, the “troubled” kids, the ones that have
to be different. It was easy to be an outlaw in a Japanese JHS because everyone
was so outwardly the same. If you colored your hair you’d be an outlaw. If you
wore your skirts longer or shorter, you’d be an outlaw. If you wore pants that
were baggier than everyone else’s, you’d be an outlaw. If you ate food other
than school lunch during school, you’d be an outlaw. (Of course, cutting
classes and giving other kids a hard time and fighting each other and kids from
other schools is kind of universal.)
So the outlaws had a band. They auditioned,
and the teachers called them not on their lack of musical talent (they were
pretty o.k. and seemed reasonably well rehearsed, unlike some of the bands) but
their attendance and behavior and their baggy pants and hair that wasn’t black
(keep in mind this is Japan and the default hair color is black or normal aging
gray, not peroxide yellow). The teachers used the band performance as a bait/
switch to blackmail the outlaws into going through the motions of law-abiding
behavior and academics. So, predictably, the kids sat in class and wore the
school uniform, including straight leg pants, and colored their hair black,
until the day of the performance when they showed up in their baggy trousers
and yellow hair and put on the best performance out of all the bands, and then
went back to their wicked ways.
One of those kids now has his own company
that hires out construction workers. At our JHS reunion, I heard him telling
his former teacher that he understood now how hard it was to try to keep young
kids from doing stupid things for their own good and protect them from the
mistakes they made. The teacher was crying tears of joy. Not all the kids got
their afterschool special storyline, but sometimes things work out.
2 comments:
What was your part?
I'm in the middle of rereading Fruits Basket, so I can kind of visualize all this Culture!
I played a background character disgruntled at how full of crap everyone was. In short, I was playing myself, so it required very little skill, just being loud enough to be heard. Which, as you know, has never been a problem.
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