What Happened When Pigs Flu

‘Attention all teachers. Attention all teachers,’ tinned through every single speaker in Shounan High School, just after the 3d period bell had exhausted itself. ‘Please relocate yourselves to the Teachers’ Room at your earliest convenience which is now.’ The students became jittery. Electricity pulsed through the room. A meeting during the day, between periods, was unheard of. Something big was afoot, and between rumors floated from other schools or hearsay from friends of cousins twice and thrice removed, everyone had the Hope.
The Hope was that we were in a new era of terror and panic, danger and destruction, which, besides bringing society down to its knees, would throw even the farthest rural regions of Iwate back seven hundred years to a time of clans and weapons, hunting and gathering, bands of scoundrels and flocks of vagabonds and gaggles of miscreants, threaten to destroy mankind, and would also cancel school for four days.
‘Derek Teacher! Derek Teacher!’ a pull on my red fleece signaled that I would be escorted by students all the way to the Teachers’ Room. ‘Is it true? Are we going to miss school?’ I feigned ignorance of the Japanese language, even as more appeared as if from nowhere to block my path with questions that I didn’t have answers to. When the beasts want blood, you have to give it to them.
‘Ask Yo Sensei! He’ll know.’ We call that the shovel pass, primarily because you dig your friend’s grave. 14 expensive and well-manicured coiffures snapped to Yo Sensei. And then they were on him. As I ran away I could see the horror on his face turn to rage for just a moment as he looked at me. But, I’d like to think that there was also a hint of respect there. It’s not every day you see the shovel pass executed to such devastating account.
The Teacher’s Room was safe haven. Like vampires who are not invited into a house and thus can not enter, Japanese students are somehow bound by social conditioning force fields. Without a bow and a formal request to enter granted, the students can do nothing but pine and sometimes claw at the door. But we can still hear them outside, scratching, talking, plotting. Even though they can’t enter, we have to leave some time, and they know that. ‘Didn’t you have class with Yo Sensei? Where is he?’ Five pairs of weary teaching eyes turned towards me.
‘It was ugly, but he died with honor.’ Lie.
‘I’m sure he did. He’ll be remembered.’ Lie. The five pairs turned away. The principal was ready to speak. I am no interpreter, and I am no steel trap of remembrance. What follows is what I believe to be a fairly decent, if not subdued, representation of the principal’s speech.
‘Holy shit, you’re all going to fucking die, but I might make it out of here if the helicopters come this far north. The prime minister is already in a bunker under Guam, presumably eating white rice with Mr. Obama, who is eating bread. I humbly received a letter of recommended instructions to be carried out exactly as written from the head of Iwate Prefecture’s Board of Education. Before I get to that, here is what we know so far, from reports that have been coming in from overseas and Tokyo, center of lust and hedonism, but Disney World is cool and so is Mt. Fuji. The debatably worst virus in the world in debatably four years is somehow spreading. Eight weeks ago, some pig had it in Mexico, and now there is a man in Sendai who is reporting that he has it too. Now, get ready to have your minds god-damn blown. This man has never met that Mexican pig. This man didn’t even know where Mexico was. And, the pig had no idea where Sendai was. We asked it.
‘Somehow, mysteriously, in a manner that we understand completely, the virus is passing from person to person invisibly, almost as if we can’t see it. History tells us that there is not a whole lot we can do besides stay calm and weather the storm, but I say that history needs to get its shit together because it’s clearly living in the past.
‘Scientists from many countries, including our own, have confirmed that people who are already sick, or weak, or young, or generally more likely to succumb to illness because of a pre-existing condition are in actuality getting sick at a higher rate than healthy adults. Who would have thought this completely rational explanation would make the slightest amount of sense? But it does, if you stop to think about it for less than a second.
‘Those same scientists have gone on further to outline two courses of action that we can take. First, let the disease sweep through. Only the strong, weak, very weak, obese, healthy, tall, short, light skinned, dark skinned, malnourished, bulimic, anorexic, filthy, poor, rich, middle class, upper middle class, lower middle class, welfare recipients, athletes, singers, songwriters, singer/songwriters, writers, novelists, novellaists, cellists, bellists, and bulls amongst us will survive. It’ll be a trying winter, with fewer bad days than good, but the disease will run its course and go away. The other course of action is to try and confine the disease, that is, rob it of the fuel it needs to consume in order to live and spread, namely our souls. There would be zero tolerance for anyone who shows the slightest hint of the disease, be it imagined, created, contrived, or real. They would be quarantined to save the others. In concrete terms, if even one person in a homeroom class gets it, we send that whole class home for four days. No exceptions. The only options are stifle completely, or accept with caution. The scientists are sure of this.
‘Without any medical training whatsoever, our leaders at the Board of Education have decided to ignore the smart people and take the middle ground of the two extremes, thereby enabling us to use the contradictory and cancelling advantages of both plans simultaneously negating them. That being said, we will establish a rule of 10 percent, and it shall be our Golden Rule. If any homeroom class reaches 10 percent diseased, that entire class will be sent home. Our homerooms are about 40 strong, so if 4 students get the symptoms, the whole class has to go home immediately, to prevent contact with others, by public transportation, probably together with their classmates. In addition, if a grade reaches 10 percent, whether or not all 10 percent come from the homeroom is irrelevant. The whole grade will go home for four days. No exceptions! Well, besides students who have an important test coming up, or besides athletes who have important competitions coming up against schools from big cities where the rate of disease is much higher. In addition, all teachers will remain at school, even if all the students are at home.’
The principal’s speech restored order. We had a plan, and that’s all that really matters. The details of any plan are unimportant next to the significance of having a plan in place. We felt buttressed by the Japanese government, and 8,000 years of tradition, to fight against a force that was not understood until about fifty years ago.

The Hope amongst students continues to grow. They all know about the 10 percent rule, and seem to be rooting for their classmates to catch the disease. I have a feeling that some are actively seeking the disease, but I don’t have the proof yet… I had the good fortune of being in a class when a ‘fourth student’ returned. Even the teacher stopped as Kumi walked in through the door. Kumi lifted her head, smiled, and said, ‘I have the flu.’ I had never been to Mardi Gras in Brazil until I was in homeroom 3-2 on November 20th.
The 10 percent rule is madness to me. Either send everyone home right away, or just let it ride. Splitting the middle will only extend the problem, I think. It’s winter. People get the flu all the time. It’s not a big deal. I had it last week. Yes, that’s right, I had H1N1, the new pig flu. And, if you were a Japanese public school teacher you might be worried about reading something that someone with the flu wrote for fear of transmission. I’ve been to work through a lot worse. I was unimpressed by this strain, but my school made me take off the entire week even though I was literally begging them to let me back early.
Along with the Hope comes the Fear. There is quite a bit of panic in the Iwate school system. Many people are wearing masks, even if they aren’t sick. Three or four day school trips to Kyoto and Tokyo, the high point of many students’ high school careers, are being cancelled because of the fear of entering into an ‘Influenza den.’ Younger teachers who leave Iwate for, god forbid, pleasure, are questioned and sometimes chided by their older colleagues. ‘Are you sure it’s safe to run around Japan at a time like this? Is that really being responsible on your part? What if you bring it back?’ But we all know it’s coming no matter what we do.
We’re not even in the coldest months of the year yet, when people crank the gas heaters that dry out the air which strip your body of its mucus protection. It hasn’t even snowed in Iwate and already people are running for the hills. It’s only going to get worse, or better, if you like comedy, before too long.

First Annual Shiwa Fest 2009

Oh my god, I can't believe you guys missed Shiwa Fest '09! It was the best friggin' one yet! There were all these bands there that totally kicked ass and transcended us into some astral music/love festival bubble thing. The night was forever and gone in the same instant, and I saw dimensions bounded only by their unapproachable limits, the smallest ones doubling as the biggest if only you'd turn your head ever so slightly to the left. Colors and fabrications blew away and all that was left was emotion. I could see emotion. It was this purply kind of velvety sof- wait, not purply, there wasn't any color. It's like I knew it was purple but I couldn't see the color purple. I just wanted to jump into this velvety tasseled road and ride away from it all into the blackness, and I would have, but everybody started dancing and I got bumped back into this. Shiwa Fest is the closest any man has ever come to the beginning of time. Yeah, so what if I was wasted at 5 30 pm on a Sunday? Monday was a day off, Mr. Man, so back up. Plus, we were internationating. It's totally western culture to pound some beers in a public restroom and then internationalize all up on people, Amurrican style. Ughhhh!

Anyway, it started with this guy.

He was 'eh,' at best. He was playin' by himself as people walked in. He probably begged someone just to get on stage, and the headliners probably felt sorry for him. I will say that he played a pretty mean Badfish, and his blues free-style thing wasn't so bad. But he totally messed up that bubbly-toesy Jack Johnson song and stopped halfway through Blackbird. Who does that? He looked nervous. But who wouldn't be, for Shiwa Fest '09, knowing that as soon as he was done the big dogs would come out and totally rock his shit.

Unfortunately, the next band, which was a Japanese lead singer/bassist girl named Azusa (totally cute) and her drummer boyfriend (some American punk) and this wicked awesome Japanese guitarist named Manabu rocked so hard that they actually made an EMP with all their rockage and blew out all the cameras for their three song Hawaiian 6 cover set. Moving right along. Next came THE CREW.

Oh my god they were friggin awesome.

The drummer (Matt) was all tat tat tat tatty tat tat ttt-tat ttt-tat ttt-tat bch bch and then he came down on the crash hard, like splitting a friggin red wood, you know what I'm sayin, like KABLAM while I swear the kick drum rang like a gong. Look at this animal!

Ok, well, he looks kinda dreamy in that picture, but that's only because he knows that he's on camera. He doesn't allow just anyone to see him in his rawness. But, the guitarist (Derrreick). Oh hell yeah.

Shredding like he hadn't eaten in a year. And with a voice like a bird.

And the bassist (Eric) had lasers for eyes! He is a bassist robot sent from the future to destroy rock and roll as you know it. He also destroyed seven people in the crowd. True story.

Then, the bassist dropped out after they finished the music-revolutionizing originals and the guitarist and the drummer did an hour of Whitestripes stuff. If only the drummer woulda worn a skirt like Meg White...

MORE! PLEASE! GIVE ME MORE OF THAT ROCK AND ROLL %&*T!

YES! DANCE TESTERS!

Then, when they had finished rocking our faces off, the cool bastards actually came down from their higher dimension and partied with us like regular folk! They feel like the rest of us. They hurt like the rest of us. They boast like the rest of us. They drink beer like the rest of us. They scream like the rest of us. And in the same order too...

Especially when their bassist boy is now rockin' the guit-box with his band and his originals. It was amazing. He re-revolutionized what the other band not an hour before had revolutionized. I almost shot myself right there because I knew life could never get any sweeter.

And then, as he held the last chord and the drum skidded to an abrupt halt, color returned and I knew that I would never be the same.

True Stats -

People blown up - 0

Number of laser eyes bassist possesses - 0

Location - Shiwa City Center, capacity - 1,200

Attendance - pushing 25

Attendance by people who I didn't know - 12? maybe?

Chairs set up (because it's Japan) - 70

Crowd size be damned, it was exhilarating, and I, like the attendee who wrote this account, will never be the same.