April is approaching and with it comes the start of the new school year. Ordinarily, this would be a time for ceremonies replete with tears and smartphone-captured sentimentality. In the midst of the coronavirus outbreak, however, even such small-scale public gatherings are less visible.
One of my Japanese students, the mother of a toddler who will be graduating from kindergarten this March, admitted to finding a silver lining to the otherwise terrifying contagion. She no longer has to organize the ¡°mama¡¯s dance¡± at her son¡¯s kindergarten. She had been spending numerous Saturdays practicing the ²õ¨°ù²¹²Ô²ú³Ü²õ³ó¾±, a traditional folk dance from Hokkaido, because she ¡°won¡± a lottery draw to lead a dance troupe of mothers corralled into putting on a show.
Like me, you may have grown up not knowing the ²õ¨°ù²¹²Ô²ú³Ü²õ³ó¾±, nor the peer pressure that could make an already frazzled working mother of a pre-schooler agree to learn a traditional Japanese folk dance on the weekends. Like me, you may be destined to go to your grave still bemused by the Japanese pre-school experience. I say this despite having a 3-year-old son in a Tokyo nursery, who is looking forward to going up a grade and meeting his new teachers this spring.
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