Vessel Log: 2009 03 12

: Y. graduation day. The hallway by the gymnasium hung with felt sakura, the back wall a sweep of paper flowers, side walls a collage of geese, messages, and taped petals. One by one, as one, san-nen-sei walk up to the podium on the stage, balanced with a bouquet of flowers and two flags. The flowers are gorgeous, like they’re exploding, imploding, shattered atoms. K.-sensei, in traditional garb, fights back tears as she calls her class up from their seats for the last time. I nearly choked up myself. Outside the school, a hallways created by students, they cheer and clap for san-nen-sei as they pass through, handing out gifts. Pictures taken in the halls, out among the slush and mud. But the sun feels charming, the wind refreshing. T.-sensei drives me home in her car and I take my lunch indoors before a 2 hour nap. Japanese class tonight.