Dartboard

During cleaning time Friday I nonchalantly asked Yukimi in the hallway what her plans for the weekend were. Expecting her to, like most students at this school, not be able to respond to my question, when she said she had a concert in Arikawa, my ears perked up. She said she’d be playing an instrument of some sort and I asked if I could come watch. She seemed so excited that I gave her my phone number and asked her to confirm the time and place with me that evening.

I expected it to be a school event and pretty small at that, but when I arrived I found out it was a huge concert with numerous bands and lasting several hours. Yuki and I had hoped to be in and out within 30 minutes, but we ended up staying almost two hours. There were a couple rock bands with Kamigoto High School students, and an awesome guitar player (who was at Lori’s birthday party) and then Yukimi’s hand-bell group.
The high school band.

The hand bell group.

The contrast between the two high school rock bands and then the hand bell group was huge. One so wild and the other so desolate. We felt like we were in a different place all together. The bands had crowds of Japanese boys jumping up and down at the front of the stage and then every one was silent in their seats for the hand bells. What could have brought these two groups together? And why were those hand bell children so mournful? Not one of them was smiling!

After looking through some of the brochures handed to us when we arrived, we realized this was a charity concert for a Catholic orphanage here on my island. And the members of the hand bell group were all orphans. That explained why they all looked so sad. I immediately felt my heart go out to Yukimi. I know of one guy at my school who is an orphan, but I didn’t realize there were so many all around me. Apparently because of the numerous Catholic churches many people who can’t take care of their children for one reason or another send them to the Gotos. Their life in the orphanage must be so contrary to my understanding of what childhood is. Afterall, what is a childhood without parents?

After the hand bell choir finished, Yukimi came to sit next to me and Yuki and watch the next group perform. We chatted quietly together until finally Yuki and I had to leave—then she walked me all the out the door and thanked me for coming. It made me think long and hard about what it’s like to be without parents. Of all the children in the hand bell choir, how many of them had someone special watching them that day? Someone to take pictures of them? I was just randomly asking a student about her plans for the weekend and as it turned out spent a couple hours of my Sunday watching the concert, but I can’t help thinking that maybe for Yukimi, having someone come to watch her—and only her—was a very rare and special occurrence.

She was waiting for me at the entrance when I arrived and sat next to me after her performance and walked me out when I was leaving. That’s what I might do for my parents if they had come to my basketball game or musical performance. I don’t want to imply that I was some surrogate mother for Yukimi, but it makes me especially thankful that I had such a loving family when I was growing up. I also want to do more for the kids in the orphanages here—even if it’s just taking better notice of the orphans in my school and giving them a bit more special attention.

The next day at school Yukimi brought me two muffins and thanked me again for coming to her concert. I’d like to print out some of the concert pictures and give them to her soon, but I hardly feel like it’s enough. I wonder if there’s something more I can do.

Yukimi in the middle. She looks really sad, but she was probably the happiest in the group. She's got a great personality in class and a good brain for English. I can't wait to get to know her better.

After the concert Yuki and I went out for lunch with Carrie.