Winter Concert

So, I just got back from what I assume was our school’s winter concert. Instead of having classes in the afternoon, everyone went down to the Cultural Hall (about a 15 min. drive from the school) for a concert. The brass band performed, and all the classes did at least one choral number. Even the teachers went up for a choral performance.

The whole thing was pretty typical (at the end, the whole school did their standard “Hallelujah” – just as weird the second time). The brass band was pretty good, but largely out of tune. The choirs were surprisingly good. The teachers sucked in their rendition of (the Japanese version of) “Do You Hear the People Sing?” from Les Mis. Yeah… pretty bad. But that didn’t stop certain enthusiastic (and out of tune) teachers from belting as loud as they could. The kids I was sitting near could barely contain themselves – trying to hide their red faces and not draw attention to the fact they they’re cracking up. Kae said that last year’s teachers’ performance was worse. “Terrible” she described it. I can’t imagine…

Perhaps the best part of the afternoon was an unintentionally comical rendition of “Oh Happy Day.” Who’s seen “Sister Act” (I forget if it was 1 or 2 – maybe Cetel can help me out…)? You know the part where they sing that song, and its awesome – full of emotion and soul and talent? Now picture thirteen Japanese girls (in their blue sailor outfits) standing in a row, trying to sing the same song. They all were rocking from side to side (not in a natural “I’m singing gospel!” way, but in a forced “my teacher told us this is what black people do when they sing gospel” kind of way) and slapping their right leg to keep time (they all did the same thing – slap the right leg with the right hand). The slapping was just as awkward and forced as the rocking. Some were too shy to really commit to the slapping and the rocking. Others slapped and rocked as if they possibly had maybe seen that scene from Sister Act (1 or 2), but lacked the natural rhythm to be able to pull it off. I bit my finger to keep from audibly laughing. Apparently, you cannot teach “soul” as you would “multiplication tables” or “vocab words”. It cannot be learned through practice and repetition. Involuntary comedy, however, can be achieved in this way.

After the concert was over (did I mention I was handed a camera halfway through and told to “cameraman”) and the closing ceremonies concluded (got to have opening and closing ceremonies), some old lady that I’ve never seen before took the stage. She essentially gave a speech whereby she went through each performed song and said something along the lines of “wonderful”, and she praised the students for their hard work. This would have been a lovely gesture had it only taken a few minutes – maybe, five at the most. But, it went on for (I kid you not) twenty-five minutes. The teacher sitting next to me fell asleep.