The Song Remains The Same

My final day at school had arrived and as I drove onto the parking lot, I was shocked to find the entire lot empty. Wasn't there to be school that day? Had I been misinformed? As I sat in my car for a moment contemplating whether I should enter the building to see if I could find anyone or if I should call my OWLS advisor to see if I had misunderstood my schedule, I watched through the windows a few teachers walking down the hallway. Another few moments passed and I saw a couple of students following. Relieved, I entered the school only to find everyone in frantic preparation for graduation. Apparently, all of the teachers had parked in a nearby field to allow room for the families of the graduates.

Though I knew the 6th grade graduations for all of my schools were imminent, I wasn't aware that they were going to be held that day. And as I saw all of the teachers dressed in their Sunday's finest (a rather inappropriate expression I suppose, considering the culture), I was happy that I happened to have dressed that morning in some of my most conservative clothes; though had I known, I certainly would have worn my suit. I was amused to note that most of the men wore white ties as during one of my training sessions at OWLS, the men were warned that it was inappropriate to wear black ties for any happy event like a wedding or graduation, but that they were more suited for solemn occasions. Given that, I was surprised to see that other than white neckties on the men, black was easily the predominant color of everyone's clothing. All of men and a great majority of the women were dressed in black suits with many of the women also wearing black tops. With the kids in their navy blue suits, the gathering resembled something more like a funeral to my eyes.

Though I had remembered the grab my camera that morning with vague hopes of documenting my last day, my luck held true and as soon as I turned it on, the batteries died. So, unfortunately I don't have any pictures of the graduation, though I have to say that I'm not sure I would have felt very comfortable taking any pictures anyway. Japanese graduations are nothing like American ones. Throughout the ceremony I was reminded of a Catholic mass - it was held in a language I didn't understand with elaborate choreography that everyone else appeared to instinctually know, and with a solemnity that I doubt any American crowd could achieve at such a happy occasion. The only times the audience showed any kind of approval was with controlled applause when the graduates entered and later exited. Other than those two times, the entire crowd was silently attentive, even the little kids.

Sidenote: Speaking of the entrance and exit of the graduates, their musical accompaniment was Pachebel's 'Canon in D.' And later as they received their diplomas, another familiar classical piece was playing softly in the background. And for some reason that tickled me. It's certainly not the first time I've heard classical music - Beethoven, Mozart, Chopin - played in the schools and it always amuses me. I realize that it's ridiculous to think of these pieces of music written by someone over 200 years ago who no more spoke English than I speak Japanese as somehow more part of my culture than of this culture, but I have to admit that I kinda do. I don't know why.

And now back to our regularly scheduled program: As the ceremony began, I amused myself by counting how many times people bowed. I stopped after about twenty minutes into the ceremony at bow number 100. That's about 5 bows a minute. The graduation lasted an hour and a half. Do the math. Though, I have to be honest that the first part of the graduation was a bit bow heavy with the dispensation of diplomas while the last half was filled with speeches and songs and didn't have quite so much bowing. We had speeches from the principle, from a representative from the Board of Education, from the president of the PTA (which to my amusement, they do call the PTA and in actuality appears to consist mostly of grandparents rather than parents), a speech from a gentleman chosen to represent the graduate's parents, and one from a woman that I never did quite work out who she was. Even the younger grades were given their chance to speak, and trust me, you haven't truly lived until you have seen and heard 60 to 70 first graders flawlessly delivering a synchronized speech. It was only a few sentences, but impressive nonetheless.

Afterwards, there was about twenty minutes of people bowing to each other as we shuffled out of the gymnasium. The graduates and their parents retreated to a special picnic that only they were allowed to attend. The younger children raced away to enjoy their half day off from school. And I said my final goodbyes to my co-workers and to the school. It feels like the year went by so quickly.

Album(s) currently playing on my IPOD - Yes' 1973 Tales from Topographic Oceans and The Decemberists' 2009 The Hazards of Love. I read a review of The Decemberists' most recent album that called it, somewhat ambivalently, the group's answer to Yes' 1973 concept album. So I figured it only made sense to re-listen to Tales to before I checked out The Hazards of Love and I discovered that for me, Yes albums play much the same role as Proust's madeleines. Suddenly, I was back in the living room of the house I grew up in with my Dad sitting in his chair reading while I did my homework. It was such a comforting sense memory.

But back to the music. I understand what the critic was trying to say, however I find the Decemberists conceptual execution closer to Pink Floyd's 1979 The Wall. In the end, I have to say that I enjoy The Hazards of Love. The Decemberists are often be tagged as hyper-literary and pretentious, and I'm not going to argue strenuously that they're not. But unlike my high school English teacher, I don't mind looking up words I don't know and if given the choice, I'd rather err on the side of pretension than on the side of 'If You Seek Amy.' 5 points for the gratuitous Britney Spears reference, score!

- Jenny