Cheongdam at Ten'noji

Cheongdam High School students are visiting our school. Two teachers, the principal and a Japanese language teacher, are leading the party. This afternoon, the students had a paseo in the Ten'noji area, in Hoop and Mio. Three teachers of ours were taking care of them, while the two Korean teachers rather wanted to explore its surrounding larger area.
After getting off the tram at Ten'noji-eki-mae stop, we walked up the overpass. At the top of it, the three Japanese teachers took to the right, leading 20 Korean students; the two Korean teachers and I to the left. From the bridge, we saw the Ten'noji Park inviting us.
You are tolled to enter the park, and some middle-aged and old men were sitting idly around the gate, as if waiting for something. After paying a short visit to a glasshouse of the park, we crossed another overpass, and headed for Osaka Municipal Museum, where the best arts of Osaka municipal high school students were being exhibited.
The exhibition was being held on the first basement level. The level had two wings: the north and the south. The north wing were providing two halls to Osaka Municipal High School Arts Festival. Its reception desk had an old man, a middle aged man, and a young woman. All of the three might have been, presumably, art teachers.
The arts were those painted, drawn, written, sculptured, hammered, assembled, woven, groomed, or fabricated during classes or in club activities. Two exhibition halls are filled with students' works. The principal asked me how many entries were there, which I didn't know. The old male receptionist happened to come into the hall we were. He, for our surprise, didn't know the number. Art teachers may not be a good statistician, especially when they are old.
One corner of the first hall showed dozens of copper plates. Each plate had a designed flora in its center. They were family emblems, or kamon in Japanese. The Korean teachers knew some Japanese kimono wears those emblems. They were interested in the idea that an emblem showed which clan the wearer belonged to.
When we went out of the wing, I asked the other receptionists of the number of entries. They exchanged glances each other, and the middle-aged man answered, "You can count the students' names the brochure has, ... or shall I count them for you?" We declined his proposal, and left the museum. Art teachers may not bother with numbers.

I am back at school, and counting. 21 municipal high schools take part in the festival. They have 999 students' names in total on the brochure. The brochure has some vague information, which implies that they have more entries, whose names are hidden to protect their personal data. Quite a big event.

We visited Shin-sekai, Tsuten-kaku Tower, the Ten'noji Zoo, Keitaku-en Garden, a historical Japanese garden, and then made for Ten'noji Station. The sun was setting, and buildings were gorgeously clothed in the evening glow. No wonder, a part of this area is called Yuhi-ga-oka, literally Sunset Hill in English.
With the entrance of the park already having been closed, we walked out through one of the two exits open. At the closed entrance, the middle-aged and old idle men were building their one-night cardboard houses with blue plastic sheets as well. They had been waiting for this. The two Korean people were watching it, maybe understandingly. I wondered if they had a cardboard city in their home country, and also remembered one of their students had told me that, the day before their departure, it had gone down as low as -11 degrees Centigrade.