On Friday, after returning from Tokyo and sleeping most of the previous day, I was to visit Hokuto High School, where Amanda teaches. On the way in I took off my shoes and got a pair of school-issue slippers, which were approximately 6 sizes too small for me. Walking around in these was difficult enough, with my heels almost entirely unsupported, but ascending and descending the stairs was a positively acrobatic maneuver. Most of my attempts at this were punctuated by either the painful stubbing of a toe or one of the slippers flying off into a hallway.

After checking out the classrooms a bit it was down to the staff room for the morning meeting. Everyone stood and a bunch of stuff was said in Japanese, with plenty of honorifics and such. I could instantly sympathize with Amanda's complaint that she rarely knows what's upcoming and going on around the school, that was apparently the content being spoken here. My presence was announced and explained, and the 80 staff members applauded me and my omiyage, a surreal moment. Then there were some smaller group meeetings, and Amanda kindly arranged with some other teachers for me to observe some classes.

For the first two periods I was to watch Amanda's English classes. So far I hadn't seen any students, but this was it. As they started to come in, reactions ranged from head-down obliviousness to mild bemusement to near mental breakdown. Amanda left the room for a long minute and I was left to explain myself to the obvious alpha girl, who skidded into the room and stopped short, shouting "WHOOO AH YOU?!?!" I uttered my catchphrase of the day, "Amanda-Sensei no tomodachi desu" (teacher Amanda's friend). At this she skipped around the room, saying "tomodachi tomodachi" several times. The classes consisted mostly of games involving vocabulary, along with the usual, boring, kids running back and forth between this room and the next one as fast as possible to memorize sentences written on cards and write them down.

After that I watched a music class. It was mostly independent study going on, so I spent a lot of time standing around trying to look interested. One student had been introduced to me by Amanda as a particularly cool kid. He was on the guitar, but after a few minutes had his head on a desk, taking a nap. When the teacher noticed this she said something to him, but the brief exchange that followed seemed entirely too relaxed. In general, the atmosphere was surprisingly relaxed--I didn't sense any of the fear or competition that I remember at times of high school. But I had been told that the students were separated by the 'track' they were on, academic, business, or, well...service sector? so this may have been one of the less 'serious' sections. Eventually Junpei, done with his nap at the guitar, started strumming Green Day's "Basketcase," and I considered that enough of an in to start up a conversation. His English skills were extremely impressive, and we had no trouble communicating.

Next was science class. At first Amanda accidentally brought me to the wrong room, which was full of even more surprised students. Just before we realized the mistake a husky student with very short hair turned to me and said, after some thought, "YOU AH GOOD-ROOKING GUY."

When we got to the right room for science class, I was surprised to find only 4 students. I was also surprised when the teacher walked up with a big smile to show us a bag full of pig's eyes. At that point Amanda decided to leave me to it. It was dissection time, and I was given my very own eye. Normally I would have no real problem with this, but it was rather unexpected, and there's something about seeing eyelashes out of their usual context that's all the more disturbing. But I had almost been waiting for a time when I'd have to suck it up and do something very much out of the ordinary for me, so I dove in. Or to be more accurate, I began tentatively poking at it with the little spear and forceps, trying to separate the surrounding tissues from the eyeball. This prompted a fatherly talk from the teacher about how "hand is the best tool." Point well taken. Next we had to cut off the resilient layer from the front of the eyeball. I responded by cutting out the entire front, cornea, lens and all. The other students were trying to help me, but it was not of much use. The teacher took it in stride and used it as a good example of what not to do. He was an extremely nice guy and really tried to teach me someting, even writing out the vocabulary in romaji. So if I ever need to discuss the cornea with a Japanese fellow, I'll know to say "kakumaku." We played around with the lenses for a while, observing the magnifying effect, and the teacher offered one to me to bring home as omiyage.

After a tasty lunch, Amanda had some work to do and I was advised to make myself visible, apparently to create the impression that my visit had some sort of a purpose. But I must admit I came to dread the hysterical reactions of the students, and found myself running away, or trying to in my tiny slippers and failing miserably, when I heard their giggles echoing throug the halls and stairwells. I'd also found it rather unsettling when I noticed the Playboy Bunny icons decorating many of the girls' otherwise staid uniform socks. When I passed a classroom with a view to the hallway it was near chaos. Then I saw sitting on a locker a wooden practise sword, and performed a couple of Kill Bill thrusts and swings before pausing to think about the potential for embarrassment.

In the afternoon Junpei came to the English lab for some conversational practise. He played some songs on his guitar, showing himself to be far more skilled than I. At the end of the school day the kids all cleaned the premises for 10 or 15 minutes, and I should mention the school was utterly spotless and extremely nice and modern. We said goodbye to the teachers who had been my guides, and I tried to express my appreciation, saying "totemo omoshirokatta" 'it was very interesting' and hoping that didn't have the same connotations of strangeness that it has acquired in English. And then my brief look into the life I could have had was over.