No Women Were Oppressed During the Making of This Bento Box

After just a week of teaching, I already feel like a seasoned pro. I’ve now taught every grade level from kindergarten to sixth grade, at three different schools in the area. While each class is different and the responses to my planned activities have varied, I’ve still managed to have extremely positive experiences with every class. I’m now quite used to my standard introductory routine; I introduce myself, speak briefly about Chicago, compare Chicago to Toyko and America to Japan, play head, shoulders, knees and toes (if the kids are young enough) and then I usually segue into either the face drawing game or the animal drawing game. I feel like my lessons have been a real hit at most schools and the kids, especially the younger ones, often cannot contain their excitement when I walk into the room. I’m not sure if this is going to get trying after a while but as of right now, it seems like it has to be the best job in the world. Think about it: I come into the classroom once a week, teach the fun lesson and then I’m out. I don’t have to deal with discipline, no one tells me what to teach and the kids are almost always enthusiastic. Plus, I'm being compensated in a manner unheard of for young teachers. It’s like teaching without all of the stuff that usually makes it such an undesirable profession.

The only downside is that it’s hot and I’m all dressed up. At the school that I’m at right now, the dress code seems pretty relaxed; most of the teachers around me are wearing t-shirts and shorts. There’s this one fashionable young math teacher who keeps pulling her compact out of her desk and checking her makeup. It’s possible that she’s trying to attract the attention of the rugged looking soccer coach sitting next to her. Anyhow, I think I’m going to stick it out, at least through the rest of the summer, in a shirt and tie. Hopefully it will help me make a good impression.

Lunch at the various schools has varied considerably. At the school closest to me, they serve us school lunch and all of the teachers eat together in the office. Last time I was there they served fish, rice, some sort of stew and some sort of vegetables with mayonnaise. During lunch, the teachers entertained themselves by taking turns asking me what liquors I drink.

At this school, I am supposed to bring my own bento box. I didn’t know this yesterday so I ate with the younger children, who are supplied with two pieces of bread, butter and honey (in one of those lunchable-style squeeze things), a hard-boiled egg, a container of cherry jello-esque stuff, a small package of dried fish and almonds and milk. All of the kids dutifully opened their bread, removed it from the plastic wrapper and preserved the wrapper to store the pieces of the eggshell in. They then proceeded to eat their meal in the specific order of bread, egg, jello, fish, milk, while classical music was piped over the loudspeakers. I ended up making the beginner’s mistake of peeling my egg onto my tray, which became quite a source of amusement.

Most days, however, I wait in the teachers’ office until I receive an invitation from one of the classes to eat with them. Today I was invited by the kid that I saw at Jusco the other night, to eat with his third grade class. As I walked up the stairs with him, I asked if he liked Jusco. He said that he did, so I asked him what his favorite store in the mall was. “Mos Burger,” he replied. We then bonded over our shared love for the delicious ebikatsu burger.

The third graders all bring bento boxes with them, which are painstakingly constructed by their mothers to supply both a well-rounded and tasty meal as well as an aesthetically pleasing one. In recent years, some Japanese feminist scholars have written on the topic of the bento box and the manner in which it becomes a societal tool of oppression. As ridiculous as that may sound, Japanese mothers are under a great deal of pressure to produce an acceptable bento every day, as it really becomes a point of pride for the children when they compare their lunches (which they really do). Recently creating bento boxes that resemble cartoon characters has become en vogue and magazines are available that detail how to strategically place rice, vegetables and fish in a box so that they resemble the face of Doraemon.

I didn’t see anything quite like that today, as a matter of fact, my humble tupperware box was the point of central focus. This is probably because they had never seen a bento box before consisting of a salami and cheese sandwich, snyders pretzels, a tangerine and a coke. One intrepid lad even saw fit to call me “Cola Sensei”. While I was eating my sandwich, my friend from Jusco inquired as to its contents. “Ham?” he asked. Not knowing what to call salami in Japanese, I nodded my head and said “and cheese”. I’m not sure why but this was a shocking revelation for the entire class. “CHEESE?” they yelled out in amazement. “Hey Mehan Sensei!” shouted one kid from the other end of the class, “Look, I have a piece of cheese in my bento too!”. My friend then revealed to the table that he had two lil’ smokie-style sausages in his possession, filled with cheese. In a show of solidarity, he deposited one of these newly cool sausages in my lunchbox.

One similarity that I have noticed between the lunchrooms of my youth and the Japanese equivalent is the traffic between lunchboxes; indeed, the concept of the trade is alive and well. I ended up passing out a pretzel to each member of the class, much to their delight. They had no idea what it was (funny, because I bought them at Jusco) but they liked it. In return I received such items as a pieces of crab and a slice of apple. I also shared my tangerine but lamentably only had enough for the kids at my own table.

After lunch, all of the children collapse and fold their milk cartons so that they can be recycled, dispose of any burnable trash and then go out to the sink and brush their teeth. It’s kind of like watching an army of ants dutifully carry crumbs to the hill. The brushing of teeth might be a relatively recent addition to the lunchtime routine; hopefully it will do something to combat the dental problem that is so painfully evident here.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get back to reading a book and getting handsomely paid for it.