The Physical, Pt.2

Did you read Pt.1 first? Ok, good. Please continue...

I sat the kids down on the carpet in a circle, and we all observed a quick moment of silence whilst I gathered my thoughts and they waited for something to happen. Okay, here we go. First ever lesson. They're sitting right in front of you. It's time to rock... Wait, how do I start this thing? Oh yeah, introduce yourself. Here we go. Let's blow their minds...

I sat the kids down on the carpet in a circle, and we all observed a quick moment of silence whilst I gathered my thoughts and they waited for something to happen. Okay, here we go. First ever lesson. They're sitting right in front of you. It's time to rock... Wait, how do I start this thing? Oh yeah, introduce yourself. Here we go. Let's blow their minds...

'My name's Jeremy!' I exclaimed, enunciating clearly and tapping my palms against my chest. But I got nothing. No response at all. Tough crowd. 'I'm from Australia!' I continued. I may have even done a little kanagroo impersonation, flicking my hands downward and bobbing a couple of times. Still nothing. They just stared at me with big curious eyes. Jeez, what a buncha rude little bas... oh, hang on! Maybe I should ask them questions.

'Okay, we're gonna go around the room and everybody introduce yourself one at a time. You got it?'

No, they probably didn't have it. Probably a little wordy, and unnecessary to say aloud. I turned to the girl on my immediate left. She wore a half-grimace half-smile, exposing gum where two front teeth should've been. 'What's your name?' I asked slowly, extending my hands towards her. Wow, a lot of handwork needed in this gig, I was beginning to think...

'Misa.'

Wait a minute. She just answered! I mean, she did, right? Did she say her name, or just try to alert me to the massive sweat stains expanding from the armpit regions of my white business shirt? 'Um, uh... oh... uh, one more time?'

'Misa.'

I looked down at her name tag, and sure enough, there were the letters M, I, S, and A printed on it. Misa. She had answered the question! Yay, I had officially commenced the lesson! This was going brilliantly! I was a brilliant teacher! Look out Mr. Chips!

I could instantly feel the nervousness rising up and out of my body, leaving me brimming with confidence. Or could it merely have been steam from my armpits? Either way, the ball was rolling. And they had name tags! This was going to be a cinch.

I turned to the next kid, on Misa's left. 'What's your name?'

'Yusei.'

I looked down at his name tag, and saw the name "Yusei" printed on it. This was working like a charm. Ha ha!

The next kid. 'Ryosuke,' he said. Okay, that one was a bit of a mouthful, but from what I could tell, he too had said his name. Misa, Yusei, Rio... something or other, they had all said their names. I was on fire.

'What's your name?' I said to the beaming girl on Ryo, Riyo... that last kid's left. 'Hana!' she shrieked. They all giggled. 'Hello Hana,' I continued. 'Nice to meet you.' 'Nice to meet you too,' she replied. Whoo! I hadn't even planned on that, it just sort of came out, and it worked. Banter. Ad-libbing. This was actually kind of... fun.

'What's your name?' I asked the last kid, the boy on my right. 'Unko!' he hollered. They all exploded with laughter. I looked down at his name tag and saw the name "Koichi" printed on it. I asked again. 'Unko!' he again replied. They rolled around on the floor in hysterics. 'Okay, Unko,' I said. 'It looks like we'll have to get you a new name tag, this one has some other kid's name on it.' More laughter. What was up with these kids? They were a bit nutty, it seemed. Oh well, as long as little Unko here didn't mind wearing the wrong tag for the remainder of the lesson; he appeared to be oblivious to the error, and was enjoying himself thus far.

On with the lesson then. I reached behind my back and pulled out the fruit flashcards...


Fast forward ten minutes or so and I had successfully navigated my way through getting the students to repeat the names of all the fruits in the pictures, doing a flip-and-find card game, and singing a fruit-inspired ditty not unlike Agadoo. A little short of breath yet revelling in my achievements I sat the five spry youngsters back down on the carpet in a circle, moved across to the bench near the door where I was keeping my materials, and began tidying up the flashcards. I bent forward and tapped the pile of cards on the bench, aligning their edges.

From out of nowhere I felt a sharp pain right up my, uh... how do I put this? Right up in my... well, my... my anus. The shock caused my head to shoot upwards and my back to straighten, and I must have leapt a few feet into the air. My immediate thought was that I had somehow pulled a muscle or caused a spasm down there due to the high-impact nature of my, I guess you could rightly say, fruity dance moves some moments earlier. Was that even possible? And how would I explain such a thing to the school manager should I need to request an early finish to my shift in order to go the nearest hospital for observation? But as my feet landed back on the floor and I instinctively spun around I saw Unko standing behind me, laughing fiendishly.

I caught sight of his hands, clasped together in front of his chest. The forefingers were pointed straight, the middle, ring and pinkies interlocked. He resembled a shooter blowing smoke from his gun. Had... had he just poked me in the arse? Prodded me in the nether regions as I stood bent over? He had, hadn't he? What an odd thing to do.

I took a step towards him, trying to think of how I should appropriately react. If I got all shouty I might scare him or cause him to cry; not a positive start to my career as a kids teacher. It may even land me in trouble with the staff at the school, or worse, his parents. But if I laughed he may think that the act is acceptable and may try it again. No, we can't have that. If I were to pretend that I didn't like it but wasn't angry, who knows what may happen. Perhaps I could play the whole thing dow-how-how-owwww!

Suddenly I felt the same acute pain again and leapt into the air once more. I whipped around and this time saw Yusei behind me, fingers in the probing position. I was so focused on Unko that I didn't notice that another kid had sneaked around behind. I heard laughter ring out all around the room. They had gotten the new teacher good, whatever the hell it was they had just done.

And it didn't stop there. Barely had I scowled at Yusei, causing him to cower, when I felt a poke from back behind me again. This one didn't quite hit the spot, didn't quite wedge my underpants right up in there like the first two hits, plunging into my right cheek instead, but Unko was proud of his second go and cackled madly. I turned ninety degrees and threw one hand each on a shoulder of the two boys, pulling them into each other, clanging them together, then I shot my hands up against their chests to keep them at arms length. But they were both filled with adrenalin, leaning into my palms and extending their arms, desperately trying to get at me like a pair of zombies. I had to dig my feet into the carpet and push all my weight against them to keep them at bay.

There were, however, another three to deal with. Misa, Hana, and Ryosuke had all risen up now and, wildly inspired by their classmates, took turns at me. Fortunately my buttocks were clenched tight with the position I held in restraining the instigators, and they failed to gain access. After what seemed like an eternity in this deadlock position, but in reality was probably only a few seconds, Hana had the nous to step around underneath my arching frame where a much more vulnerable part of me was left unprotected. She slowly looked up into my fearful eyes from only a couple of centimetres away, revealing a devilish grin and a clenched fist. 'Oh god, no,' I pleaded to her. 'Not that.'

I had to make a split-second decision that would involve a sacrifice, and I chose to protect the future possibility of being able to father children. In grabbing Hana's wrists I unwillingly granted admission to my backside again and the other four seized the opportunity. From all angles tiny fingers jabbed, causing me to twirl hopelessly, like the final frankfurter on a plate being attacked by the toothpicks of hungry children at a birthday party. I guess I was going to have to ride this one out, my dignity all but evaporated.

... 'I couldn't believe they were doing that. I never ever did anything like that when I was a kid!'

I was back in the safety of the teachers' room after the lesson, relaying my sordid tale. The other teachers were flabbergasted. I held the attention of the room.

'You mean they were actually trying to get you in the clacker?' one of them asked.

'Right up there,' I answered with a disgusted look on my face. 'It was as if they were trying to convert their fingers into sticks of Pocky.'

They were so fascinated by my twisted experience that not one of them even smiled let alone laughed. Their eyes were as wide as saucers.

'How did you make them stop?' another queried.

'I ended up blasting them. They got really scared and sat back down.'

'I heard that from my cubicle!'

'Who were the students in that class? Maybe I know them.'

'Um, there were three boys and two girls. Yusei, Unko, Hana...'

'Unko? What do you mean Unko?'

'... Misa, Riyo-something or other.'

'Unko isn't a name. It means poo!'

'Hasn't this ever happened to any of you before? You mean to tell me that in my very first kids lesson I cop what no other teachers cop, ever?'

They responded with a mixture of nods and shakes, which I took to mean that this whole concept was entirely new to them all. Lucky me to be the pioneer.

'And they kept all chanting something too, while they did it.'

'Like what?'

"I dunno. My Japanese isn't so good. It sounded something like kancho. "Kancho! Kancho!" they were going on. At least, that's what it sounded like. Does anyone know what it means?'

More heads shakes, and people looking around at each other at a loss.

'Do we have a Japanese dictionary here?' I asked.

Byron reached onto a shelf behind me and placed one in my hands. I flicked through it, scanning the romaji words under "k". My tracing finger stopped. I had found the word.

'Got it,' I said. 'Oh, man.'

'What does it say?!' they blurted out.

'It means... are you ready for this? It means... enema.'

I had never heard a united laugh so uproarious, nor the crack of thighs being slapped so thundering. Tears streamed down all of our faces. The bell rang for the next lot of classes yet no one heard it. They instead took turns yanking the dictionary away from one another to get a look themselves and allay their disbelief.

'You mean, kids going 'round poking each others' asses and saying "enema" when they do it?'

'That is sooo depraved!'

'What ever happened to kids innocently playing marbles, or having hobbies like that?'

'I'm sure "marbles" exists here too; it just means reaching slightly more under...'

'How come it's never happened in my classes?'

'Do you want it to?!'

'Bend over a little more, it will happen.'

'Or maybe they just like Jeremy's butt. Hey Jeremy, spin around, give us a look, it must be fine!'

And so the banter went on. I would later discover, through continuous interrogation of students and friends, and consistent firsthand experiences, that kancho is actually a very common prank amongst youngsters in this country, and is practised almost to the extent of being a national pastime. Why someone would want their fingers smelling like another person's rectum is beyond me, yet the act enjoys a status much grander than the old "wedgie" back home. It is a skill honed in one's youth, then maintained through puberty and brought out on special occasions during adulthood. That which would seem to verge on sexual harrassment or assault in some countries is cheerfully dismissed as childish shenanigans, even when the culpable fingers are attached to, say, a 40-year-old businessman. I once saw a TV programme where male and female comedians alike were doing it to each other as they walked down a shopping street. They all accepted it with an embarrassed laugh when they were on the receiving end, and exercised great cunning and stealth when they decided it was their turn to deliver. Men and women of the cloth, if you will. It's a Japanese tradition that is not set to die out any time soon, and foreign teachers represent a whole demographic of naïve, unsuspecting targets to any budding kancho enthusiasts out there.

Despite all this, next week I strolled into the same class with a broad smile on my face. Although the students began wriggling their fingers in anticipation and whispering methods of attack, I was confident that the six pairs of underwear I had put on that morning would be enough to thwart even the most aggressive thrusts.