You Lie…and Yo Breath Stank

Nakamura-sensei is incapable of saying “I don’t know.”  He has no idea that if he answers one of my questions with that sentence, I’ll respect him more than if he gives me some BS answer.  Case in point, since the beginning of March, all high schools and junior high schools have been closed.  Elementary schools remain open for those children who can’t stay home alone while parents are at work.  At School B, there are two sets of children:  one that stays in the library on the second floor all day, and one that stays in the gakudo (after-school classroom) on the first floor all day.  They never mix.  I only teach the library kids. 

Today I asked him what the difference is between the two groups.  He said that the library group is grades 1-3, while the downstairs group is only first graders.  “Really? The downstairs group is only first graders?”  Yes, he said firmly.  That was a straight up lie.  When I’m stand by the window trying to get warmed by the sun, and the downstairs group goes out for recess, some of the dodgeball players see me, wave and shout “Lindo-sensei!”  I recognize them.  I don’t teach grades one and two at this school, so although the kids know I’m the English teacher, they don’t know my name.  The dodgeball players are third graders. 

The difference between the two groups is probably one that Nakamura deems too difficult to explain given his limited English skills, which is probably why he lied.  Why lie about such an insignificant thing, though?

Japanese people do this all the time.  They give the most flimsy reasons and excuses and think I’m stupid enough to believe them.  Because this happens so often, it makes me question everything they say, which becomes exhausting.  At least in the West, when people lie, they usually make an effort to make it believable. 

March 2020