Stowaway

This morning, I packed my backpack with my lunch box, made sure I had my wallet, phone, camera, electronic dictionary, and my Japanese notebook, and hopped on my bike to head to school. Just like any other day.

When I got to school, I entered the genkan (front door) and slipped my shoes off. I stored them in the little, sweaty shoe-locker where all the teachers store their little sweaty shoes. I slid into my indoor shoes and greeted the main office with a hearty ohayo gozaimasu. (Only sometimes do they reciprocate.)

I walked up the short, humidity slick staircase and cruised into the staff room, bellowing another hearty ohayo gozaimasu. (Only sometimes do the teachers reciprocate. I'm beginning to think that these particular good mornings are rhetorical.)

As I was at my desk, unpacking my bag of all the goodies I need to function properly in a Japanese staff room, a long, ugly red antennae caught my eye. The sickening meaty maroon of exoskeleton made my heart lurch. As I grumbled a low, "Not cool, not fucking cool" to myself, I zipped up my bag and made a fast return to outdoors.

The office staff was truly curious about my prompt exit, and were up and out of their desks as fast as I had kicked off my indoor shoes and slipped outside. Just as I was overturning all the contents of my pack and kicking at it with a guarded toe, one of the secretaries (and good friend) came out to see what was all the commotion.

"Gokiburi!" I cried.

cockroach.

By this time, Jimicho-sensei was hanging out of an open window, watching and laughing. All I could manage to say was, "Kirai! Kirai!" (hate it, hate it) between 7th grade screeches of horror that I didn't know I still had in me.

After making sure that little stowaway was long gone, I shook off the remaining ickiness and reassembled myself. I returned to the staff room. News spread fast and by the time I sat down for a second time to start my day, one of the PE teachers, was gleaming at me with that compassionate sucks-to-be-you smile and asked, "gokiburi?"

"Hai. Hai."

Kawabe-sensei wrapped it up by saying that he must translate for me less and less; that my Japanese is getting better. I feel that in this circumstance, my contorted face full of disgust and having my backpack in my grasp at arms length as I bolted from the office was all the communication that anyone needed to understand that there was a cockroach in my backpack.

What a way to start a day. I really hate cockroaches. And fast hand-sized spiders.

And that is the end of the story.