Cultural Education

Each year, my school (probably just like every other school in Japan) commemorates the day it was founded. The School Foundation Day. Recently, we celebrated the school’s 91st foundation day. In Japan, this means speeches.

In the morning, along with all the other teachers, I donned my snazzy black suit, carefully adjusted my silk tie and casually brushed the dust off my... white trainers? Yup, formal footwear optional. I opted for trainers, thank you very much. Probably because everybody is expected to change from outdoor shoes to indoor shoes pretty regularly, the attitude to the actual style of the footwear itself is very relaxed. I could have worn slippers if I’d wanted to. As long as I had a tie.

The ceremony was held in the sports hall, with seats for all the teachers lined on one side, seats for the special guests facing them from the opposite side, and a sea of seven hundred students dividing the two. Before the guests arrived, the crowd warmed up with a quick rendition of the school anthem. And then once more, only this time with the student’s coerced into actually singing along. They were all dressed impeccably in their military-style uniforms. They looked the part, now they just needed to act the part. This was an important occasion, and full commitment and attention was required.

One by one, the visitors filed into the hall, bowing as they entered. They were serving or former members of the school council, ex-principals, people like that. Once they had all taken a seat, they were introduced in sequence. Introductions are very important. When introduced, each guest stands, says something short that’s fitting for the event and then bows and sits back down. The air is practically stiff with formality. And with about 800 people all sitting and breathing in the one room, it’s also getting warm and stuffy.

The principal strode up to the stage, bowed to stage itself, ascended and then bowed to the assembly. And so began the first speech. I sat carefully at attention, trying to take in the words that I couldn’t actually comprehend. But I didn’t need to understand the words as long as I understood that respect was paramount.

Ever tried to focus on listening to something that you couldn’t understand for an hour straight without any kind of visual stimulation? While seated? In a hot room? I willed myself to keep my concentration. The best thing I could think of to shake off the feeling that my eyelids had turned to lead was to look around the room, assuming the role of teacher appraising the students’ conduct. Now I know why they always did that.

As I scanned the crowd, a slight lolling motion caught my attention and I noticed that a student had his eyes closed. Actually, most of the students had their eyes closed. Come to mention it, directly across from me, most of the guests had their eyes closed. Turning to glance at the teaches seated on either side of me, most of them had their eyes closed too!

In Japan, it is completely, absolutely, perfectly acceptable to close your eyes while listening to somebody delivering a speech. And it makes perfect sense. There was nothing to look at, nothing to watch, so keeping my eyes open was actually proving to be a distraction.

I sat there for a moment, thinking.

Then I closed my eyes.

Best. Culture. Ever.