Whacking Watermelons and Rhythmic Peaches

Monday’s post on Hokkaido black watermelons reminded me of this tale from our daughter’s first year of yochien. So while you still ponder why someone would pay six grand for a watermelon, consider this:

Whacking Watermelons and Rhythmic Peaches

Whacking Watermelons and Rhythmic Peaches?

What the heck is whacking watermelons? And what pray tell are Rhythmic Peaches?

My sentiment exactly! See I am not the only one asking the questions these days. For example, I am frequently asked, “Brian-san, do they (pause) THIS (with rising intonation) (pause) in the United States?”

The response to this question is usually, “Looks like another Tale.”

Activities with our daughter are the most frequent source of this question. So this summer when we bought her a yukata – a cotton kimono worn during the summer – for the summer festival, we were asked, “Do they (pause) Obon Dance (with rising intonation) (pause) in the U.S.?” (Obon, in case you are wondering, is the summer festival to celebrate and remember your dead ancestors.)

Then there was this one, “Do you (pause) whack the watermelon (with rising intonation) (pause) in the U.S.?” (NOT MAKING THIS UP!) Now, I generally tell people that A. I had never heard that particular euphemism before, and B. I don’t generally share that information. I was by the way, asked this question a lot this summer; especially in the week leading up to Samantha’s summer carnival at school. My stunned silence to this question generally resulted in the “asker” (always a female) telling me how much fun it is to play whacking the watermelon. It turns out that whacking the watermelon is exactly like a piñata party…well except that there is no candy. And there is no paper mache animal. And there is nothing hanging from a string. But other than that, it is exactly the same.

In case you want to play whack the watermelon at home (and I know you do), here’s what you do: Stand a watermelon up in a large paper donut so the watermelon won’t roll away. Second, arrange all participants in a circle about two meters from the watermelon. Next, give a small child a whiffle ball bat, blind fold them and spin them around. Here’s the important part, the children sitting in a large circle around the watermelon, clap and sing the “whack the watermelon” song. It’s a catchy little tune. Not to mention that clapping and singing encourages the dizzy blindfolded whiffle ball bat welding child to whack the watermelon and not the head of the nearest child. Once the watermelon has been sufficiently whacked (read “pulverized”) the children get to eat the watermelon (well, the limited remains of the watermelon.)

Slightly more entertaining was the recent yochien field trip I went on with our daughter. Me, one hundred eighty 3-5 year olds, and one hundred seventy-nine moms. “Do you (pause) Imo Hori (rising intonation) (pause) in the U.S.?”

Ah yes, Imo Hori, the annual rite of autumn. Nothing says autumn like a field trip to dig sweet potatoes. And you thought the changing of the vending machines was the only rite of autumn. Not to worry, city slickers diggin’ ‘taters while sitting on small vinyl variegated towels, with old socks pulled over their shoes and donning surgical gloves to protect them from the mud while Toni Basil’s “Oh, Mickey” blares across the field is an event not to be missed.

Leading up to the annual Sports Day, we were of course asked, “Do you (pause) Sports Day (rising intonation) (pause) in the U.S.?”

The most recent question came this past Sunday. “Do you (pause) rhythm kai (rising intonation) (pause) in the U.S.?” I know what rhythm is. But I am still unsure about “kai.” I do know that it has nothing to do with Mr. Miagi and Daniel-san.

There are annual rights of summer, and annual rights of autumn. So it should come as no surprise that there are annual rights of winter as well. The yochien had their annual Rhythm Kai this past Sunday. As winter programs are wont to do, the teachers were able to show off their skills and to demonstrate the utter unpredictability of preschoolers. If you are a parent, you understand the excitement of such an event; the thrill of seeing YOUR child perform. The hope that your child will be so spectacular that the other parents will break their tunnel vision to take note of yours. And the anxiety of hoping that when that one child does that really embarrassing thing, that please, please, please, ohhhhh please don’t let it be my kid.

Much to my amusement over the past couple of weeks, our daughter has been randomly breaking into song. Not her usual songs mind you. But elaborate songs. Long songs. Songs with motions and gestures and dance steps. Clearly the anticipation was growing.

On Sunday we were told to be at the school auditorium by 8:45 a.m. The trains in Japan start on time; rhythm kai’s do not. Instead of having the children perform on the stage in the auditorium, a large oval was roped off in the middle of the auditorium – Theatre-in-the-round for preschoolers. Each class at the yochien preforms. The three three-year-old classes each performed twice. The older classes performed three times. In addition to her little songs and dance routines, our daughter has learned to stand at attention and to march. While some schools divide their classes by colors, our yochien is divided into fruits, birds and a wide assortment of flowers. Our daughter is in the peach class. Each class entered while their respective teacher played the piano. Hiyashi sensei began playing and in came the marching peaches in their dress blue uniforms, arms swinging, pride beaming from their little faces. Our daughter was the third one to enter. And as I had hoped, all parental eyes broke from their tunnel vision to watch the leggy American blond stride out with her march steps, leaving child number four and all the others lost for a moment in the door way unable to keep up. The children lined up as they had been trained, a chord sounded and they all bowed. The piano began to play and for the first three, four notes of the song I noticed a similarity to what Samantha had been singing in the house. By the eighth note, it had turned into a hollerin’ contest that could rival any ever held in Spivey’s Corner, NC. (Actually, the Hollerin’ Capital of the world; your useless bit of trivia to share with and dazzle your friends today.) Twenty kids, standing at attention, eyes closed, bending at the waist, nearly doubling their little bodies over, trying to be louder, in a musically distorted sense, than the little peach on either side of them. As testimony to how good their teacher was, all of the peaches wereyelling in key and in rhythm! (Not all the classes understood the rhythm thing.)

After the yelling stopped, a chord was sounded and they all bowed. Another chord was sounded and they all stood at attention. Another chord and then to my amazement I saw our daughter reach down and pick up a pair of castanets. You may remember a Tale about all the things we needed to buy for yochien. Remember how I joked that it would be really funny if our daughter actually learned to play the castanets? Well, we came to Japan and and our daughter has learned to play the castanets. One kid on a bass drum with a mallet, some with tambourines, some with bells, some with triangles, my daughter, with castanets. Did I mention that this bunch of peaches understood how to keep a beat?

I was unsure what, if anything, could be better than the peach class with their wonderful singing and beat keeping skills. We didn’t have to wait long. The next class came marching in to Ob-la-di-ob-li-da. This amused us greatly. Well, until this class decided to use this as their beat keeping song. I am aware that you can play on the beat and you can play on the off beat. I was unaware, until this past Sunday, that there is something known as the off-off beat. Ob-la-di-ob-li-da being played with 20 individual off-off beats simultaneously on six different percussion instruments makes you wish, “na, na, na, na, life would end!”

Other classes chose to beat the rhythm right out of Rudolf the Red-nosed Reindeer and a piece my wife swears was Beethoven. While the rhythm numbers leaned more toward modal jazz, the musical plays were amazing. The one class of five-year-olds performed a musical version of Peter Pan while another did Beauty and the Beast. Both were spectacular! There was the comedic factor with “It’s a small world” and “Supercalaphragalisticexpalidocious” being used as background music for them. And there was the Jack and the Beanstalk skit which contained the mandatory very-funny-to-everyone-but-his-parents child who ran around parroting all of the Jacks songs, even though he was dressed as one of the giants. (I think I saw him for sale on E-bay yesterday.)

The peach class musical was “The three little pigs.” Our little American was one of the four little pigs that lived in the straw house. (For the record, there were five little pigs that lived in the stick house and five that lived in the stone house and six wolves). Our peachy pig did her little dance with the other three straw house pigs beautifully. She did find it more interesting to wave at us when she was supposed to be hiding from the wolves, but she stopped waving in time to run to the stick house at the appropriate time. In this version the wolves and pigs decide to become friends and do a dance together. Nothing like 20 peachy pigs and wolves on one knee doing the shaky “jazz hands” to symbolize true harmony and friendship.

No one asked me if we have (pause) rhythmic peaches (rising intonation) (pause) in the U.S. So, only one question remains: When will you (pause) have a whack the watermelon party (rising intonation) (pause) at your house?

Originally posted  Written December 8, 2004