I try to avoid using the toilets at school as much as possible. There is little to recommend them, even at the most flush of times; windows always open to the elements, they are bollock retractingly cold in the winter and paper-rottingly humid in the summer. Sometimes though, especially after a weekend (or an “interesting” school lunch), my internal poo clock conspires to trick me and will force me to make a journey to the dark side. Today, after the grim realisation that there was no way I would be able to last the next ten minutes, let alone the 7 hours before I got home, I decided that I had to gamble at these doors of doom. Luckily, the one sit-down toilet was free (I still am amazed that any rational person would choose the squat-bog over the sit-down “western” one, but it does seem to be more popular – especially among the more patriotic literature teachers). Just as I was about to sit down, I noticed, to my horror, that there was nothing but two cardboard rolls left in the cubicle. I quickly pulled up my trousers and went to the dreaded squat bog, to find nothing at all in there. There were also no rolls on the shelf in the cupboard, or by the door in the staff room, where the excess rolls are usually stored, prior to deployment.

This left me with a bit of a dilemma. it was the middle of a class, a free period for me and apparently only the vice-principal, all the other teachers seemed to be in lessons. I could have hobbled over and ask him where the loo-rolls were, but in my current state, the panic that my voice would inevitably betray would be akin to just going up to him and saying, “Hi, I really need to defecate in your school, quickly“, and I didn’t feel quite up to that. This left me with three options. Firstly, I could venture into the third year boys’ toilets and steal one of their loo rolls, but the filth I would have to encounter to accomplish this was such that it would be cleaner just to shit in my pants and be done with it. I could also go into the moderately cleaner third year girls’ toilets, but I wasn’t ready to be seen doing that and having to try to defend myself in my poor and desperate-for-the-toilet-rushed Japanese. So, option three – run up a flight of stairs for the 2nd year boys’ toilet.

Nothing there. In any of the 3 free cubicles. In the fourth was a tearful bullied boy I felt it unwise to disturb. Sprint back down the stairs, a little less quickly now and bite the bullet. I ask the principal, and am told that there were no toilet rolls left for teachers til June, and he asked me to bring in a roll of my own. In the meantime, he gave me his personal roll to use, and looked rather sad when I brought it back to him, half depletedm, with a sated expression.

It turns out that the school’s whole supply has been used making streamers and decorations for sports day practice. Nice to know where the priorities lie.

This isn’t because the students don’t know any other answers. If you grill them and stress that you want their true feelings, they will answer with a myriad of original (odd and occasionally perplexing) reponses: “I am beauty”, or “I’m glad to be here tonight”, or “Yes, I am”, or even “I am happiness”. I meet all with expressions of praise: “Well done”, “Good, beauty itself withers in your presence, Taro”, and “I’m glad you’re here too”, and so on. However, the next class when we do greetings, “I’m fine thank you, and you?”. Pointless.

I was talking to one of my students yesterday. She had gone to America over the Christmas holidays with her family and was telling me about it. She got ill at some point during the trip, and they took her to the local hospital. As she was the only English speaker, her family made her talk to the doctor. She said she wasn’t worried about it, as she wasn’t that ill and we had recently done getting ill role-plays in class. Apparently, she was all ready to tell the doctor that “her belly ached”. When the doctor came into the room though, she greeted the student’s family and then turned to the girl and said, “So, how are you?”. She, of course, replied, “I’m fine thank you, and you?”. The doctor said, “If you are fine, why are you in the hospital?”, (which I have to admit sounds little bit harsh). The girl got confused and nervously, started spouting Japanese until the hospital got an interpreter. I asked the girl to explain this to the class, as an example of why the students should always think about their responses to these simple questions. The kids were mesmerized by her story, with lots of “oooo”s and “ahhh, naruhoudo”s. I was happy that they could finally understand what we had been telling them for so long.

I went into the class today and started the lesson. “Good morning class, how are you?”. The class, depleted by the current school infection and lead by the girl I had talked to, replied as one: “Fine thank you, and you?”.