Izuhara Trick-or-Treating

Like last year, Izuhara got the ALTs together and put on a trick-or-treating event for the local kiddies. Six of us made it: Kim the Pirate, greeting approaching kiddies with a menacing "GRR!"; Joe the Ninja, earning the title Ninjo; Scuba Gavin, wearing a wetsuit and snorkel; Zombie Oliver, wearing fake blood, as well as sunglasses to conceal the white jawbreaker eye taped over one of his eyes; Rose, the Wicked Witch of Fort Worth; and me, desperately hoping to be referred to as 'Adam Potter' so I could use it without sounding too lame. ("No, it's okay! Someone else called me that! I can say it!") We were joined by one of Joe's English teachers, Ms. Shibata, dressed as a Chinese woman wearing a qipao.

The plan was for the seven of us to occupy five designated spots around town. We'd be supplied with boxes of treats. Local children would run up to us, say "trick or treat!", get candy, and in the process hopefully learn to love English. They also had a card for stickers: each location would give them a sticker, which both prevented doubling up on places and indicated when they were finished. Afterwards, everyone would rendezvous at a nearby spot for our introductions and a costume contest.

Rose and I fittingly teamed up. We were inundated very soon by horde after horde of little kids. They were far too cute for words. Unlike last year--when the theme seemed to be "decorative and creative use of cheap but multi-colored trash bags"--their costumes were much more ornate. There were several Pokemon, cats, Anpanmans (Anpanmen?), Ultramans (Ultramen? I give up), princesses, and witches. I was slightly disappointed there weren't any Marios or Links.

I saw a few of my high schoolers, presumably out with their little brothers and sisters. The overwhelming majority of the students were Rose's, since she has most of the local elementary schools, and it was great to see her soak up the attention. There were lots of babies, either happily toddling their way up to us, mutely staring at us while carried by Mom, or crying their eyes out while Mom, apologizing, held out the bag and said "trick or treat."

Once everyone had made their rounds, we all reconvened at what turned out to be a small museum and gallery cleared out for the occasion. The seven of us entered through the back door, entering a makeshift stage area in front of a slew of kids. Amid shouts of "Joe," "Rose," and "Gavin" from students recognizing their respective ALTs, we tried to get everyone quiet. Once that had been more or less accomplished, we each gave a brief introduction. We then did the Hokey Pokey, which was even more fun than I'd imagined.

We had a costume contest next. As a group, the seven of us tried to hastily pick out our favorites from the crowd and, talking amongst ourselves, hashed out rankings. We then went out into the crowd and got the winners, lined them up on stage, and announced their prizes.

As the crowd dispersed, Miyuki, the 5-year-old daughter of one of Chorus D's tenors, sheepishly came up to me with her mom. (Yes, her mom sings tenor. Beautifully.) She was decked out in a pink gown and pearls--clearly a princess--and wanted a picture, but was too shy to say so. Her mom snapped it, Miyuki waved at me, and they left.

The various mothers and other women in the city who had volunteered to put the event together began running around taking down decorations, with the taller of us helping get the hard-to-reach streamers. Several of the older kids helped us, too. The seven of us had a celebratory otsukare lunch immediately afterward. Joe tried to steal a baby, and made him cry. (Not really. Well, about the stealing, anyway.) Oh, and I got in a little bit of trouble with Shibata for too-obviously noticing that her qipao had a slit going up scandalously high. (That part's for posterity.)