And I Don't Peel My Potatoes, Either.

Today I had to give a demonstration class in one of the schools, to show myself off like a shiny appliance with all sorts of newfangled features and hope the result is that the school decides to keep me around (at least until the warranty expires). It was set up just like an normal day in class, but the teachers played the parts of the students. I played the part of the  enthusiastic cheerleader, and we were off on a whirlwind adventure of classroom games and stilted English (mostly on my part. Go figure). It felt exactly like a roller coaster experience: terrifying and entirely unsettling...until the ride stops and you're suddenly flooded with a surge of exhilaration that convinces you that that was F-U-N.

As a reward, the principal gave me some muscat grapes. K, not really, everyone got them, but I wanted them most so I think that counts. I devoured them as quickly as I could with both hands because it was (yet again) brutally hot and these were FRIDGE grapes, cool enough to savor if I could just get them  into my mouth before the sunlight and humid air had time to settle on them. But even in the height my grape-snatching frenzy I couldn't help but notice that the principal was not eating the whole grape: he was delicately separating fruit from skin, leaving a pile of discarded green flesh on his plate. He noticed my own indiscriminate tastes at the same time, and good-naturedly informed me that I was the odd one in this scenario. Then he called in his vice-principal and in Japanese told her, "Look, she eats the skins!"  Looking amused, they proceeded to ask me if Americans also devour the shells along with our nuts. "Of course not!" I replied. But then I sort of ruined the effect by letting them know that I used to try to eat their soy beans (edamame) by gnawing through the furry outer pod.

Lasting Impression Tally:
Nifty Teacher: 0
Manic Foreigner with the Table Manners of a Squirrel: 1