Bunkasai: the day I fell in love with Kobe Takatsuka High School

Anyone who knows me well knows I'm not prone to gushing, but in this case I will make an exception.

Last Friday and Saturday, Kobe Takatsuka held its annual bunkasai (cultural festival), probably the biggest event on the school calendar. Bunkasai is basically an open day (or couple of days), during which students display the fruits of their club activities, serve festival food, and put on live entertainment for their families, members of the local community, and alumni. There is something of a division of labour between the first, second and third-years: the first years (ichinensei) work together in their home rooms on an art project; the second year (ninensei) home rooms each put on a couple of song-and-dance routines; and the third years (sannensei) do the catering. Because I had only arrived in Japan in August, I missed last year's bunkasai and did not know what to expect . . . and the language barrier can make it difficult for teachers to describe such things in sufficient detail. I was also at a loss as to how I could contribute to the festival, my English Speaking Society being in a transition phase having lost its only two members from last year's ichinensei, and having gained two recruits from the fresh batch of ichinensei only very late in Term 1. I did end up contributing in a small way: Manto-sensei, the English teacher who sits behind me in the staff room, asked me to help out with her ichinensei home room's Mona Lisa mosaic . . . and you could hardly notice the discoloration to the right of Lisa's hands (and we won the poster prize, anyway, so shut up). And Okada-sensei (the calligraphy teacher) framed a kanji "masterpiece" I had been working on for much of this term, and added it to the Calligraphy display. To a local eye it doubtless resembled the handiwork of a kindergartener, but hopefully it will impress all my gaijin friends.

Ichinensei art (click image to see slideshow)

There is a stereotype about Japanese students that suggests that they are quiet, docile and reserved. My students at both Kobe Takatsuka and Nagata Shogyo have been (fortunately) gradually chipping away at this stereotype over the past year. But last weekend, at bunkasai, they hogtied that stereotype, wheeled it out into the middle of the baseball field, set it on fire, and danced around the fire like wild Indians. I had never seen the students like this before. I never realised how much talent, how much potential, how much enthusiasm they possess. I knew the brass band were good, but in the darkened gymnasium on Friday and Saturday morning, they were spectacular. Shiver-down-my-spine spectacular, at least to my untrained musical ear.

The brass band were just the opening act, however. The main attraction were the ninensei--students whom I had taught last year as first-years in my Oral Communication Classes. What the ninensei had to do can be compared to a Rock Eisteddfod, with the exception that the home rooms were competing against each other rather than other schools. There are seven home rooms, and you might ordinarily expect that to tax the patience of a gaijin who doesn't speak Japanese, and isn't always enamoured of J-Pop, especially the saccharine, boy-band variants. But my former students (I don't teach them this year) put on a show--make that seven shows--that kept me glued to my seat from start to finish. I should perhaps have seen it coming: groups of boys had been using the Language Lab after school to practice dance routines choreographed by an Exile DVD, and while foreigners like you and I may consider that a little, well, "camp," the swooning, screaming female students in the audience that day would beg to differ. It wasn't all sunglasses, backflips and elbows, however. There were also a cappella gospel choirs, cross-dressers, mimes, and of course the Waterboys who, dancing in their swimming trunks to the strains of "Misirlou" (the theme song of Pulp Fiction), brought the house down. Hang on a minute. I taught these kids only a few months ago. Where did this come from? There were prizes given the the top three home rooms, and I thought this was a little unfair, given that they were all fantastic and obvious the result of long preparation and much dedication.

I took photos. They didn't come out very well, because my camera doesn't have a powerful enough flash for indoor shooting, but I'm posting them anyway. I want the memories. (Click the image to see a slideshow)

Friday was more for the students and staff, though students from a local school for the disabled paid a visit as well. Saturday was open day proper, and well attended by families and former students, some of whom came up to say hello to me (they had been in my English Conversation classes last year), and very few of whom I recognised, given the local custom of dying one's hair any colour other than black the moment one graduates from high school. The sannensei had food stalls set up outside the gymnasium, and while even with my notorious appetite I could not consume everything on offer, I did keep a promise to some of my English Conversation students and bought soba meshi and takosen. Needless to say . . . oishikatta desu! Ditto the cookies and cakes sold by the home economics club. After lunch I returned to the gymnasium to see some of the school bands. I was even lucky enough to get my programme autographed by the all-girl group ANNNY, members of which formerly belonged to my ESS club.

Assorted arts and crafts (Click image to see sideshow)

Well, now I know what a bunkasai involves, and I'm much more inspired to get my ESS (assuming I still have one) involved next year. And I take my hat off to the students of Kobe Takatsuka for putting on such a great show. You guys rock!