(The kids are on top of the file cabinets cleaning the windows, and dusting. In Japanese schools, kids clean the school including the bathrooms. This was the K class.)
The school’s administration waited for me patiently as I stepped into the school with my kids. Sister Maria (I don’t quite know exactly what her role is) and the vice principal were waiting for us. As I stepped into the lobby, immediately they asked us to take off our shoes and slip on the “inside” shoes, (slippers). The kids and I found that to be funny to be wearing slippers around the school hallways and offices, they loved wearing them, laughing across the hall, dragging their slippers inside.
Sister Maria knew enough English to translate between the VP and myself. They could see the frazzled look on my face, with my children bouncing off the walls after being in the car for almost 3 hours.
I brought my kids’ academic school records; they carefully looked over their report cards, and asked me why I want to send my children to the school when I had an excellent option on base. I didn’t know how to quite answer them. After all, the vice principle wanted to make sure I knew this “experience” of sending my children to the school shouldn’t really be an experiment in order to experience Japanese culture as other American families have done. I was a bit intimidated by his remark, and just shook my head. I knew I had to sell myself at that point, so I told them our stay in Okinawa is indefinite, (which in some sense, it really could be), and I wanted my children to learn Japanese if they live here. They seemed to be impressed by the children’s record, and told me they would contact me in couple days. At this point, I asked to see the school, and to my dismay, I was horrified at the facilities. I felt I was going back in time- that is, when I was in school in Korea when Korea was still a third world country in the 70’s. School was not in session, and as I was walking down the hallway, there was no air during the thick of summer here in Okinawa. (later found out the AC is off when the kids are not in school), the hallways have fluorescent lighting, the floors were old, and the classrooms looked old and barren. I felt I was stepping into the old past. At this point, my mind was racing with terrible thoughts:
“I wasted the whole day to come here, I can’t believe I put my kids and myself through so much to come here today..”
“There is no way I am paying for my children to come here.”
“ How in the world can they study in this heat?”
“The base school spends more money per child than this school does on my kids, and it’s free on base, and I have to pay for three children to come here!”
I didn’t quite shut the doors on the school yet until I found out about couple things:
1. They showed us the playground, and this was the clincher: a huge field of dirt, no grass, and no play structure, nothing. (exactly how my school was in Korea) Micah exclaimed, “This is the playground!” I was so embarrassed. The VP asked me why Micah was so surprised, and I told him what Micah said, and the VP didn’t say anything.
2. I asked what the student to teacher ratio was, and they answered: 1-30. I gasped. WHAT???? 1-30? Not even the public school in Charleston is 1-30!!! (Later found out the public schools in Japan has a 1-40 ratio).
3. No computer class. There isn't even computers for the kids. They spend two full periods on calligraphy, (WHAT?!?)
I left graciously telling them, I would wait for their decision, but had already made up my mind that there was no way I was going to send my kids to the school.
