What's "Normal"?
The
thought occurred to me today that my life might not be
exactly "normal".
This
thought came to me when I was poked in the butt by a 13
year old boy. This was before I signed a half dozen autographs,
but after I was serenaded by a group of five girls from
a window. Oh, and that was before a 14 year old
girl asked me for a cigarette.
I thought it was going to be just another day, and I suppose
it was. There's nothing wrong, per se, with an unusual
life, but sometimes it's so different than the life I
thought I would be leading that I think I have no business
leading it.
I
walked up the path to the school and I heard singing from
above. Five girls crowded in a window singing Celine Dion's
"My Heart Will Go On"; a couple of the girls
had their arms stretched out the window towards me. Not
a bad way to start your day, eh?
Then
in my second period class I was walking up and down the
rows of desks. I was following
my usual proceedure during the "say and repeat"
segment of English class, making sure all the kids were
saying the English out loud after me. I had just passed
one of the more rambunctious kids in the class and felt
the poke. Furious, I rounded on him, grabbed him
by the collar told him that that was not permitted.
"Is
that bad?" the JTE asked.
"What
the hell do you think!?!"
"Hmmm... yes, maybe that is a little rude".
After
class I took him outside and beat him with a cane.
Haha!
Nah, just kidding there. I scolded him with the aid of
the teacher and assigned him to write sentences (those
at the left). Later, the teachers engineered it so that
he would come after school and apologize in front of two
English teachers and the principal. I was surprised they'd
throw so much support my way, but I wasn't about to refuse
it; most of the time they won't help me out with the discipline
half as much as they should.
The
principal lectured him to tears and he bowed a full-on
100 degree bow, not one of those 15 degree wussy bows,
then just about ran from the room after he was dismissed.
I wanted to laugh out loud as the principal was lecturing
him, the situation was somewhat ridiculous, for him. It
seems that he had only poked me out of fun, being friendly.
Maybe he pokes his friends in the ass all the time, I
don't know. I sure as hell never poked my friends in the
butt. Anyway, so he just did it to be friendly and then
he was in tears with teachers and the principal bitching
him out. Well, he's got to learn that he can't do that,
he'd never do that to one of the "real" teachers
here. He'd be cuffed so fast he wouldn't see it coming.
It
seems that so many kids here find my buttocks irresistible.
I'm always patted, spanked, squeezed or poked by youngsters
(usually boys, but there have been a few girls) that I
guess I just blew up when Koyo did it. I don't know why
so many have this fascination, but they do it because
they can get away with it. Because I'm a foreigner. Hence,
the sentences at the left.
So
I'm trying to catch my breath in the counselor's room
in my off period trying to read a book/sleep on the sofa
when in walks Geisha Girl. Immediately she sits down and
asks if I have a cigarette.
"Don't
you have class?"
"Oh,
no. I'm special. No class for me." (Sometimes,
students just decide to wander around the halls or school
grounds, teachers usually won't stop them)
Then
she proceeded to tell me how she was in love with the
leader of a motorcycle gang (young punk gangster wannabes
who race around the city in non-muffled wannabe motorcycles,
most of them underaged) because he had the fastest
and loudest bike. I knew she had a boyfriend and she said
that his bike isn't as loud (I also learned that her boyfriend
was arrested the night before for riding without a licence).
Geisha Girl's got problems.
Two
years ago, I thought that right now I'd be at a university
getting my PhD in astrophysics, not getting poked in the
butt by little boys or seranaded from windows or signing
autographs (at least, not yet, anyway). So on days
like this my life seems a little unreal to me. I shake
my head and wonder how my life got so strange or messed-up.
But,
I don't suppose anyone's life can truly be considered
"normal". Everyone's got their own little things
going on that if another person heard the whole
story they'd think the person was either amazing, crazy,
or both.
At
my university there were a number of exchange students
from Japan who I thought were getting a distorted view
of America by living in Irvine(where you need a permit
to paint your house and you can't put up a basketball
hoop in your driveway). But the same people thought I
was getting a distorted view of Japan by coming to rural
Wakayama.
But
the truth is, personal experience by nature is particular
and regardless of someone's situation or circumstances
it will always seem strange to the next person; they will
always think the other person's view is distorted, slanted.
They are them and I am me. So whether I turn out to be
a multi-millionaire tychoon, a garbage collector, a world-renowned
scientist, or an obscure philosopher my experiences will
be mine alone and that makes them strange to everyone
else. Everyone sees the world through their own looking-glass.
All
my life, I have wanted to live an unusual life, take
the road less traveled. But maybe my life's not all
that unusual, after all. And maybe that's not so bad.
