Santa Claus is Taller and Far More Tan Than Traditional Representations Have Led Us to Believe

A while ago, I was asked by someone in the office next door if I would help out with a Momoishi Children's Christmas party. Figuring that I would probably have nothing better to do on Christmas Eve, I agreed. I had almost forgotten about it when the same woman showed up at my desk on Thursday with a detailed schedule of events. As it turns out, the party was going to involve a few hundred children and I was expected to come up with almost an hour's worth of activities for the entire group to participate in at once. Not exactly what I had bargained for.

I showed up bright and early on Saturday morning to help set up the hall and was immediately charged with blowing up balloons. Myself and two others spent what seemed like an hour blowing up hundreds of balloons using a compressed air pump. Luckily for us, there was no activity planned for the children between the time they arrived and the beginning of the party, so most of them spent that time popping as many ballons as they could.

Once all the kids had arrived, they were split into groups to prepare various materials for the party. The fourth through sixth graders, being fairly capable, were sent off with some Philipino women to help prepare Philipino noodles. Why Philipino food on Christmas? Your guess is as good as mine.

On the other end of the spectrum were the first graders, whose primary skills (as near as I can tell) are getting really excited and stomping on my feet. They were given the exhilarating task of taping what balloons remained to a white banner.

The second graders were instructed on how to make flowers out of sheets of tissue paper and then taped those flowers to a Christmas banner. I must say, the end result was quite impressive.



The third graders were split into two groups based on their gender, one of which I was in charge of. Our task was to make a christmas tree out of only green balloons, some blue construction paper and tape. The girl's group quickly set to work, blowing up balloons and creating the base of their structure.
Unfortunately, the boy's group (of which I was in charge) was much more interested in popping the balloons that I had managed to inflate and generally standing around. Later, when they discovered the double-sided tape, they thought it would be really hilarious to tear off little squares and stick them all over me.
The final product of the girls' collective labor, while not a perfect Christmas tree by any means, was an impressive structure in its own right.
Whereas, ours was more informed by abstract impressionism.

With all of the decorating done, it was time for a well-earned lunch break. The Christmas menu consisted of Philipino noodles, a sushi roll, the requisite fried chicken (though, shockingly, not from KFC), a slice of pizza and a Christmas cake from Mr. Donut. At first, I was really excited at the prospect of eating free pizza. That is, until I discovered that they had only ordered one variety: ketchup, cabbage and scrambed egg pizza with a coctail sausage on top of each slice. I really wanted to get a photo of this horrible abomination but by the time I had taken out my camera, there was none left.

After lunch, some people got on stage and told some "Christmas stories," although to me they sounded suspiciously like Japanese new year's myths. The children were not very entertained by this and a few even attempted to escape before they were rounded up and herded back, lest they miss out on all the fun.
While boring old-people stories are a tough act to follow, I mustered up my courage and took the stage as the last presenter. Having not been given adequate time to prepare anything appropriate, I decided to warm things up with that Christmastime staple: "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes". While most JETs who teach younger kids have probably played this game a million times before, I guarantee that you haven't really played it until you've done so in a gymnasium with a few hundred screaming kids. Afterwards, I decided to bust out a special Christmas edition of the old maru/batsu ("true or false") game. I asked Christmas-themed questions ("Does Santa live in Canada?" "Do they have Christmas in England?") and had the kids take positions on either side of the stage in accordance with their answers. Then I would have the incorrect side take their seats, thereby whittling down to a group of three winners. The staff had prepared prizes of Mr. Donut promotional items for these lucky souls and I would be lying if I didn't admit that I was at least a bit jealous. The final activity was a huge game of janken (rock, paper, scissors). I have no idea how it works but Japanese children have devised some way of playing this game on a massive scale. They trail through the room in lines like monstrous serpents and in the end a victor emerges victorious.

Lastly, while on stage and holding a microphone, the organizer of the event asked me, "Mehan-Sensei, why don't you go backstage and get Santa-San?" Of course, when I got backstage, the only thing there was a oddly-sized Santa costume. As I handed out gifts, holding my red pants up with one hand and trying my best to avoid swipes at my beard, I was greeted only with skepticism. After handing out all the gifts, I ran backstage, took off the costume and ran back in to the hall through the front door, asking "Is Santa here?" Most of the children refused to beleive that Santa wearing the exact same pair of torn-up Onitsuka Tigers as me could be a coincidence. But of course, there were a few who asked "That really wasn't you Mehan-Sensei, was it? Really?"