February brings the coldest month of the year in Tohoku. Tired of snow, ice, and wind that cuts through the many layers of winter gear, spring feels far away. It's no consolation the month only has 28 days. It drags on, bringing down any semblance of positive energy trying to poke out from the frozen ground.
Except February is also the month for two holidays. One Japanese, another clearly not, there’s a buzz. Those otherwise dejected have two events to discuss.
One is the Japanese festival of setsubun. Traditionally,
this is when oni (ogres) come down
from the mountains into the homes where little children live, terrifying them
with their grotesque masks of pure evil and horridness. The children throw beans at them calling out,
“Oni wa soto! Fuku wa uchi!”
“Ogres, go away! Good luck come inside!” Indeed. This story is about the bravery of children determined to protect their friends from these monsters, whatever it takes. But, first some background.
“Ogres, go away! Good luck come inside!” Indeed. This story is about the bravery of children determined to protect their friends from these monsters, whatever it takes. But, first some background.
It is most definitely a local tradition, more fun for the
grown men who some how get pleasure (?) of tormenting their children. (Payback,
anyone?) There’s no going easy on the
kids. It’s tradition. That the children cry is a given. It’s almost the point. All this in the name of continuing on what’s
been done for generations—it’s cute and funny—except when you’re the kid facing
the evil giant.
This year, the oni from Goyozan, a local mountain up north in Tohoku wrote a letter to the kids, giving fair warning of what he’s coming down from the mountain to do. It’s Japan’s version of Santa Claus, except in this case, Santa not only doesn’t give presents if you’ve been bad, Santa comes in a evil-Santa costume, horns sticking out from under his hat throwing coal at kids who disobeyed parents. Or something of the sort.
This year, the oni from Goyozan, a local mountain up north in Tohoku wrote a letter to the kids, giving fair warning of what he’s coming down from the mountain to do. It’s Japan’s version of Santa Claus, except in this case, Santa not only doesn’t give presents if you’ve been bad, Santa comes in a evil-Santa costume, horns sticking out from under his hat throwing coal at kids who disobeyed parents. Or something of the sort.
Here’s a translation of the letter, in its most terrible oni handwriting, complete with a larger-than-life hand print for a signature.
To
the brats at XXXX Preschool,
I
am the red oni from Goyozan.
How dare you all throw beans at me last year!
How dare you all throw beans at me last year!
It
hurt so bad I couldn’t sleep that night.
This year, I’ll take back you up to the mountain with me if you
don't finish their lunch properly, don’t take naps, and don’t listen to
your teachers. You better be prepared!
I’m coming to your preschool on February 1st. Be there. And, don’t throw beans at me. Got it?
From the Oni of Goyozan
I’m coming to your preschool on February 1st. Be there. And, don’t throw beans at me. Got it?
From the Oni of Goyozan
What must it be like to go to school with this handwritten
letter from the oni most feared hanging in the hallway? I’m so glad I’m not four years old.
Now, the story. I’m
at one of the preschools I routinely visit.
Today we’re practicing English discussing shapes. I start with happy shapes. In the spirit of celebrating Valentine’s Day,
I take out the Valentine’s cards I brought from the States and explain to the
kids, “In America, boys and girls
give chocolate and cards to people they like.”
The girls pick up on this right away, giggling. Even five year olds know in Japan girls give chocolate to the boys they
like. Boys don’t reciprocate. Oooh. Gross.
I’m careful to suggest the kids can write the cards to
anyone. Knowing some of these children
lost relatives, I don’t say, “to your mommy” or “to your grannie” but I make
the list as long as possible making sure the kids can come up with someone.
Soon, crayons in hand, we’re all addressing cards.
Done with our Valentine’s activities, I go back to my book
of shapes. I pick what I think is the
simplest and point to the circle. “Can
you find any circles in the classroom?”
Hands shoot up again. I call one
a boy who points to a large bag of crumpled newspaper, the size of golf balls. I ask what these are for. Kids talk at once. It’s explained to me these are the “beans”
they will throw at the oni who will
surely come to traumatize the kids in early February. Another boy raises his hand, and he tells me
the following story rattling off line after line, not pausing to take a breath,
while the children around him nod in agreement.
“Last year, a bunch of really scary oni came to school here and we were scared, but I didn’t cry because I’m brave and strong and my daddy told me boys aren’t supposed to cry, but I felt like crying because I was so scared. And then, when the oni came last year’s five year olds made a line, they held hands, and we all stood behind them throwing beans and newspaper balls like these at the oni yelling at them to go away because they’re bad. The five year olds were scared, too--even the boys--and a lot of them were crying but they still protected us from the bad oni. The babies and the kids in the younger classes were screaming because they were so scared. But, we all had these five year olds protecting us from the bad oni. So, our class decided this year the boys will make a line where everyone in the school can stand behind us and the girls will be right behind us because they’re five, too, and they’ll throw as many of these newspaper balls as they can. We’re going to protect the younger kids just like the five year olds protected us last year. We’re the five year olds now, so that’s what we’re going to do.”
“Last year, a bunch of really scary oni came to school here and we were scared, but I didn’t cry because I’m brave and strong and my daddy told me boys aren’t supposed to cry, but I felt like crying because I was so scared. And then, when the oni came last year’s five year olds made a line, they held hands, and we all stood behind them throwing beans and newspaper balls like these at the oni yelling at them to go away because they’re bad. The five year olds were scared, too--even the boys--and a lot of them were crying but they still protected us from the bad oni. The babies and the kids in the younger classes were screaming because they were so scared. But, we all had these five year olds protecting us from the bad oni. So, our class decided this year the boys will make a line where everyone in the school can stand behind us and the girls will be right behind us because they’re five, too, and they’ll throw as many of these newspaper balls as they can. We’re going to protect the younger kids just like the five year olds protected us last year. We’re the five year olds now, so that’s what we’re going to do.”
It took all the resolve I had not to choke up. Forcing
myself to smile as I listened to the absolute determination of these five year
olds to continue the tradition of protecting the young I said, “You’re right. You’re all very brave. Good for you.
I’m proud of you.” Turning red,
the boy nods and I’m not sure what to say next.
Deciding I will lose it if I don’t keep talking, I decide to change the
subject. I flip through the book of
shapes and find the perfect one.
“What’s this?” I say, pointing to a star. All the kids know “star” in English and
called out in unison. We look for stars
in the classroom. Again, a success. I end the day of shapes-in-English by making
a heart with my hands, telling them I love them all, and then whisper, “And,
you’re all stars.”
Kids. I swear. They should rule the world.
