Turning Japanese

Teaching English Overseas

Alex Deacon Thursday, 22 March 2007

I graduated from the University of Alberta in May 2006 with a Bachelor of Arts in History and Psychology. Not ready for the real world of careers, I decided to seek adventure by travelling abroad to teach English. On 5 September, 2006 I waved goodbye to family and friends as I boarded a plane in Edmonton to Vancouver, and then from Vancouver to Japan, where I’ve been teaching English as a foreign language for the past six months.

Seeing Sumo wrestling on TV didn’t prepare me for the real thing. Asashoryu Akinori, Mongolian by birth and the current grand champion, enchants the crowd. At 148kg, he’s slightly smaller than most of his opponents. Before the bout, he slowy raises and then stomps each foot once, and gives two enormous claps of his hands to thunderous applause. As the two adversaries square off, dead silence falls over the spectators. The tension is palpable. Then the grand champion touches both fists to the ground and the whole stadium erupts. The two enormous men charge toward each other with remarkable agility, and there’s a collective intake of breath as the two combatants’ heads crash together. After all the fury, Asashoryu tosses his foe out of the ring with an almost-graceful ease. The crowd loses control—Asashoryu has secured his title.

In November, Fukuoka city, on the southern-most island of Japan, is home to a month-long sumo-wrestling tournament. It’s a thrilling taste of traditional Japanese culture—a glimpse into the past, which is contrasted markedly with the city’s neon signs, Starbucks coffee shops and ubiquitous vending machines. The Sumo wrestlers wander around Fukuoka in traditional kimonos, and the scent of sandlewood perfume, which they treat their hair with, lingers in the air as they walks by. Seeing them casually stroll through the city adds to another quirk to life in Japan that make the whole experience a little surreal.

The arrival of the Sumo wrestlers also means that I’m not always the tallest person in the train station. Standing 6”4’, I generally stick out of a crowd in Canada, but in Japan I’m a giant. Even though I’m in a big, cosmopolitan city of about 1.5 million people, curious eyes are constantly pointed in my direction. I learned the Japanese word for tall (_takaii_) after about two weeks of living here, and since then I hear it on a daily basis, whispered amongst friends as I walk onto trains and out of elevators.

I will never fit in here. This became a fundamental truth the first time I went to a traditional Japanese hot spring, or onsen, at the recommendation of some of my students. When I was in elementary school I had a reoccurring nightmare that involved solving particularly hard math questions on the board in front of my peers. Night after night in my dreams, I’d shuffle up to the blackboard, only to realize that I was completely naked, to the great mirth of my classmates. After what seemed like an eternity I would give a violent start, and wake up in a cold sweat, mercifully ending my dilemma.

Despite the omen-like qualities of these dreams, I did decide to try an onsen, to see what all the fuss was about, and whether it was as relaxing as everyone proclaimed. As I lay soaking in uncomfortably hot water, completely naked, I was fully cognizant of the fact that everyone was staring at the enormous (no, not like that) foreigner, pinching himself as if he wanted to wake from a bad dream.

Teaching English as a foreign language

After four years of university, this is what I wanted: something completely different before I settle down and think about the inescapable career or family that will one day be part of my life. And after six months living and working in the city of Fukuoka, I’ve come to realize that teaching English is a pretty decent job, and the opportunities are endless. I’ve been learning much more than I’ve been teaching; I’ve moved to another country, I’m trying to learn another language and culture, meeting new people, doing new things and making a little money in the process.

English has become the most widely spoken language in the world, and is used to some extent by over one billion people. English teachers are highly sought after in many countries, and it’s possible to find jobs almost any continent in the world. Armed with a degree, the sheer good fortune of being a native English-speaker, and a Teaching English as a Foreign Language (TEFL) certificate, foreign countries seem a lot less far away.

I hit on the idea during an anxiety-ridden third-year winter semester. Attending well-intentioned Career and Placement Services’ seminars for employment opportunities for Arts students and History majors proved disheartening at best, and depressing at worst.

Teaching English seemed like a convenient way to fund my ambitions of seeing more of the world before settling into a career.

In January 2006, in my fourth year of university, I completed a 60-hour TEFL certification course. It comprised of three weekends in meeting room B of the luxurious downtown Comfort Inn. The course itself was fairly pricey—I shelled out about a grand for it. But it covered a wide array of topics that went well beyond lesson-planning and grammar. We discussed everything from the nitty-gritty aspects of working-visa applications and wise packing, to dealing with culture shock and homesickness.

Many jobs teaching English abroad. require either a bachelor’s degree or a 100-hour TEFL certification. In the end, I could have gotten away without completing the course. The company I work with provides its own training and materials. But by giving an introduction to grammatical issues, lesson-planning, and teaching methods, the TEFL course did open many options up for me, as many employers require a bachelors’ degree and a TEFL certification, it can be a worthwhile decision.

From completing the course at the end of January, I spent my last semester in the dark and cold Edmonton winter dreaming of my future life somewhere—anywhere—that was slightly warmer. I visited websites such as www.eslcafe.com and imagined my life in the sunshine and sand. In February, I applied with a large Japanese company that was recruiting at the Education career fair. I had a group interview three weeks later, and by April I had a job offer for September.

At the time I did my interview I still wasn’t completely sold on Japan. I liked the idea of teaching in South America or South-East Asia. In the end though, it was financial considerations that pushed me towards Asia, and an interest in Judo (and sushi) that led me to Japan over Korea or Taiwan, which also have well-paying jobs available.

I’m so hungry I could eat horse. Raw.

Promises of good pay, short hours and paid vacations brought me into Japan. In November 2006, amid fears of North Korea’s nuclear tests, I took one of Japan’s many ultra-efficient and always punctual high-speed trains to Nagasaki, the second city to fall victim to an Atomic bomb strike by the Americans during WWII. The train from Fukuoka to Nagasaki takes a little over an hour, passing through mountains, over the lush countryside and along winding coastlines.

Of course, one of the highlights for me was the Nagasaki Atomic Bomb Museum. Having learned about the infamous bombings in classes and argued its benefits and drawbacks in seminar history classes, it was a shock to see first-hand representations of the catastrophe that nuclear weapons represent. There are several charred clocks, all stopped at 11:02am, and blackened walls with silhouettes of people that bore the brunt of the explosion.

Travelling in Japan has, on the whole, been less grave, but every bit as eye-opening. Shrines and temples dot cityscapes, nestled in beside modern skyscrapers and bustling intersections. In secluded parks at night, among the bamboo shoots and moss-covered stones you can occasionally see glimmers of the city’s neon.

And only working 32 hours a week allows plenty of time to sightsee, a national obsession here. Before setting out, I always poll my students to find out the must-dos of my prospective destination. One can not go to Kumamoto, for instance, without sampling the exquisite basashi, or raw horse meat, served with soy sauce, thinly sliced onions and grated radish. A few kilometers north lies Sasaguri, which is well known for its squid, served so raw that it’s still twitching on the plate. I haven’t been able to stomach this, actually.

If no one understands you, just speak up!

Naturally, living in a foreign country where you don’t speak the language presents some interesting challenges as well. Making friends was difficult at first, and my roommate at my company-provided accommodation proved fairly useless in this regard. A five-year veteran in the English-teaching industry in Japan, he was a bit reclusive by nature, and being on the Atkins diet severely limited his willingness to explore Japanese cuisine with me. This had the benefit of forcing me to get out and make things happen, and I found two pretty good solutions.

One of the first things I discovered was the language exchange board at the International Centre, where people who want to learn or practice another language advertise for like-minded individuals, the idea being that half of the time you spend together focuses on learning one language, and the other half is spent learning the other language.

This proved to be invaluable. I made a couple of friends who, thankfully, already spoke excellent English. Though I didn’t learn much Japanese, they showed me around the city and helped me with sort out things like groceries, bills, my mobile phone and restaurants.

I also wanted to do something, cliché as it sounds, traditionally Japanese during my time here, and having a little experience from Canada, I investigated the painful world of Japanese Martial Arts. After a short search I discovered a Japanese jujutsu (similar to judo) club, taught in Japanese by an Australian ex-patriot who has been living and training here for the past 20 years.

Although incredibly painful, this has been an excellent place to meet people, both Japanese and foreign. I train every Wednesday at a shrine just off the bay. After my first class I was so sore I could barely move for the next week. Since then I’ve become a little more accustomed to it, although just barely. As though getting tossed around like a rag doll for two hours isn’t bad enough, the training hall isn’t heated. In the winter it’s absolutely freezing cold, and if my fellow masochists weren’t out to get me, I’d almost surely have succumbed to the icy cold by now.

Six months and going strong

While visiting exotic places, seeing new things, eating bizarre foods, and meeting new people have been the most interesting aspects of my year so far—filling my blog entries and letters home with lots of great stories—there are additional benefits to teaching English overseas, not the least of which are resumé-related. Not everyone can move to a completely foreign country and hold down a job, after all. Additionally, it’s possible to find jobs that pay enough money to be able to pay off student loans while seeing the world.

The job itself is also a good experience. I work for a large corporation that demands high levels of performance from all of its employees, in many respects. Working for a private company, I don’t work in a traditional classroom environment. I teach eight lessons a day, five days a week with two half-days. Each lesson has a maximum of four students, except for kids’ classes, which have a maximum of eight. As it’s a private school, employees are expected to display not only great competence in teaching English, but also high levels of professionalism and customer service, which takes on a new meaning in Japan, where customer service has evolved from friendly greetings to utter ridiculousness. A friend of mine once had an elderly convenience store employee run for three blocks to give him five yen (about five cents) that he’d forgotten.

Accordingly, male employees in my company are required to wear a knotted tie, pressed wool or cotton business pants, a pressed shirt with a starched collar, and business-appropriate shoes. Females are to wear a neatly pressed blouse, a skirt or business trousers, and plain stockings or socks. Sleeveless blouses are out of the question, unless worn underneath a business jacket. Any piercings beyond earrings on women are out, as is unnaturally coloured, or unusually styled hair. The Japanese staff who work at our branches are held to similar standards. They are required to wear makeup, and their hair has to be as dark, or darker, than a regulation hair-sample that is kept at each branch, otherwise they’re expected to dye it.

But no one speaks English!

While it can occasionally get lonely, and I do miss my friends, my family and whole-wheat bread, teaching English in Japan has been an excellent experience. After the first month making friends became very easy. There’s a vibrant international community in Fukuoka, as there are in most large cities in the world. International newspapers and the Internet have made it easy to keep up and keep in touch. Having a sense of adventure and a lot of patience has helped me to deal with mundane day-to-day things like figuring out the post office and registering as an alien resident.

If you find yourself, as I did, with your convocation date racing towards you, and yet neither a corresponding sense of maturity nor desire to grow up too fast, going abroad to teach may be just the ticket to the adventure you’re looking for.

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