Cool Beauty

You know summer has arrived in Japan when:

• people stop you to ask why you're wearing a shower-cap while further inspection reveals you've walked through another spider web
• your retinas develop callouses from all the bugs you meet
• you revert to ironing the back side of your shirts again
• your new vocabulary is exclusively about frogs
  
• pulling your pants down reveals an Amazon of evil in so many ways

I shall not elaborate on the last point.

Yes, 2007, the year we'd all been waiting for, is already halfway done. It seems like it was just yesterday that we had "stoves" in each classroom (kerosene heaters) , thus supplying us with our only recourse against winter's elements -- apart from cloaks made of pheasant hides caught during the fall hunt. Actually something should be said about these stoves, both a testament to Japanese adaptability and, yet, a screaming testament to the contrary. Somehow these industrial revolution hand-me-downs manage to coax fuel, electricity and fire to live together and, as the lone giver of heat (since most Japanese are actually dead), it serves as a kind of congregation area, an office water green tea cooler if you will. Sitting at my desk I could look straight at it at any time and see the principal standing there, solemnly toasting his ass, his face a staid bastion of concentration.

The principal plays an important role in any school, and in Japan the ascension to this seat is considered a bit of a coup for applicants- usually PICKMEPICKMEPICKME vice principal types. There is a test (there is ALWAYS a test) involved in selection, as well as the dreaded mile run. Principals must be fit for many duties at school, including (I am not making this up) weed wacking, having coffee brought to you, and smoking in your office as if your death depended on it. I am glad to say mine excels at all three.

Ever since we received new teachers at both schools, the format of planning for and teaching English classes has similarly changed, granting me an inadvisable amount of input. No longer does the old nod and grunt trick float me through planning sessions, as it had in the past.

Teacher: What should we do?
Nicky: furrows brow, bobs head
Teacher: Ok, so, after song, children will make human pyramids.
Nicky: mmmmmmmmmm.
Teacher: Do you understand?? After pyramid, you swallow hamster, OK?
Nicky: I see. nods
Teacher: Good, see you tomorrow.
Nicky: Hamster? I heard hamster. Wai--NOT AGAIN

Thus, when I was asked recently for a game idea I actually said something. "Let's play that one game, but add ROCK SCISSORS PAPER," I said, throwing my hands in the air as if I'd just created the universe and sought props.

For here in Japan, games whose outcomes are non-dependent on skill instantly inject fun into otherwise un-fun subjects. At a funeral and need to smile? Fuckin rock scissors paper someone, because there will be a taker. I have a 3rd grader who won't participate in English but if our eyes meet, he'll crack a small smile, shake his fist and suddenly I'm caught up in rock scissors paper WHILE TEACHING. But it is important to first consider and estimate your opponent before deploying your weapon, for you will discover the battle is won long before the count of 3. Then, which weapon shall it be?

Rock Rock, the very thing we build our homes on, the stuff of cosmos. Nothing is more reliable than a rock of 4 billion summers. It's raw inertia enables it to dispatch most enemies with a single, crushing blow but if there is anything the classics have taught us, even the mightiest bear fatal flaws. Be wary of Paper, whose flexible fibers will quickly cover and disable your rock.

Scissors Scissors: the most well rounded of the implements, yet also the sharpest. These no-nonsense steel blades fear only three things: God, Rock, and Superman. Strong enough to pierce through the armor of most enemies, Scissors usually does the trick, but watch out for Rock's tough outer layering and considerable weight.

Paper Paper, whose skin carries the word of many Gods, will fell your foes with a wrap-and-choke technique learned from the Burmese Python of lore. Almost as aged as Rock, Paper derives from the majestic sequoia, and as such it is vaulted into respectability. Be not fooled by the parchment's modest dimensions. As Rock will attest, you must move swiftly or Paper will have you. Heed the two pronged attack of Scissors, whose razor edges have never lost a match to Paper.

Finally, I got a haircut recently. My good natured, 50-year old female coworker walked in the staffroom, took a look at me, and delivered the best compliment I will ever receive on a haircut.

"Cool...beauty?"

That's right, bitches. Cool Beauty's creepin while you sleepin.