Fly-do

Flies.

Well, we are in the middle of Farmland Japan, and thus we are on our 5th or 6th generation of flies.

They are everywhere... it happens just about the time all the farms that surround MySchool fertilize... (As you might imagine).

So, there are a lot of flies... and when I say a lot, we change our flypaper strips every 2 weeks because really there's just no more room for flies to get caught...

All this time, most teachers (Myself excluded, of course) take to the fly swatting duties. I won't join them because (As many of you are aware) I am against killing... even flies.

Mr. Second Year has become particularly good at swatting the flies. To the point where I believe the flies consider landing on his back while he is preoccupied an extreme sport (I am, in comparison, the bunny slope…). He had become so good that at one point he was swatting flies on the lunch tables when he managed to get three of the buggers in one hit. So I, being duly impressed, said: "Ah! You are a 8th Dan Master (8th degree black belt) at fly swatting!". “Yes”, he replied, chuckling, “8th Dan.”

Fast-forward two days in which the local resident 8th Dan master at Fly-do netted two flies on the side of the copier, upside down. I was impressed (It was a tough shot), so I applauded. He looked at me and said, simply; "8th Dan master." We both laughed.

In the course of this, Ms. 1st year PE joins in the fray. Ms. 1st year PE is a replacement teacher for our current 1st Year PE whom is leaving soon on maternity leave. Since (New)Ms. 1st year PE speaks English (She teaches High School Juku, or Cram Schools at night), I can tease her a little about trying to catch up to Mr. Second Year, the Master. To which she replies with great mock sorrow; "I'm only 3rd Dan..."

Days pass, flies die, fertilizer is set out again and the war rages on. Mr. Music Teacher who is a very reserved man and says very little, suddenly joins the battle one day by calmly and with absolutely no expression on his face whatsoever, flicking a fly dead with his fingers...

We were all impressed, but we dare him to repeat the feat...

…So he promptly does...

Mr. Second Year looks at me in awe and says: "10th Dan..."

Today dawns with me in my usual position in this war: harmlessly shooing the flies off of my coffee cup. One is really getting to me (Obviously he is a teenager trying to impress his friends with his daring passes at the “Bunny Slope”) He lands on my coffee cup and I (Once again) shoo him off… But he flies right at my hand (Thus proving he is indeed a teenager). We collide, he loses (Cursed superior mass) and he promptly falls directly into my freshly made coffee (Which is at 99 degrees C or 210 F) where he wiggles for a second and then dies. This distresses me in more ways than one as, a) I killed a fly... and b) I have to sterilize my Coffee cup now... and c) My God what a greusome way to die... by boiling... (This is why I don't kill anything, I have too good an imagination) So I grumble all this as I pass Mr. Second Year.

"Oh," he says, "Killing a fly with your Coffee cup is easy... Killing a fly with your coffee... now that is very difficult. I award you 3rd Dan..."

---Me... 3rd Dan in Fly-do