Let's Japan.org Debunking Eikaiwa and Ramblings in Japan

"Hey! Hey you!" the bus driver called.
Chris grabbed me by the collar and spun me around.
"You forgot to pay your fare. Pay the man."
"I did, I put a thousand yen in that box and got my change back."
Chris smiled. "It's just a change machine. It doesn't collect fares. You took your money and ran."
"Oh," I blushed, turning to the bus driver, "Sorry." Not 12 hours on the ground and my first newbie mistake in public.

The three of us were sitting in Kim's apartment sharing a pizza and drinking Kirin Lager. Well, I was drinking the Lager and the other two were sipping ice teas. The phone rang. It was Ann, Kim's friend.

Background: One of my ex-students quit GEOS over a year ago and is still trying to get a refund on her unused group lessons. One night she called with the intention of leaning on the manager for a concrete answer but got Kaya, the senior teacher at the Odawara school. When my student asked for the manager, Kaya quipped that there wasn't one and that she was essentially running the school until GEOS could bring in a "permanent" manager.

Everyone Comes to Festas

One hundred days into my eventual 1095 spent in Odawara and I was climbing the walls. My classroom had a view of the station. The sight of all those people boarding trains bound for locations other than Odawara drove me to depraved depths of jealousy. Somewhere someone was having fun. He or she was having fun in a way that wouldn't come back and bite them on the ass later. He or she was meeting new people, going to new places, doing the whole "life" thing. I lived in Odawara.

I got into town about 3 in the afternoon. When the train pulled into the station my flesh was crawling. Here I was back in the old hometown, so to speak. Gad, what if I ran into a student? All the students were told that I had returned to Canada to begin my apprenticeship in the circus.

Guest post by Bob Perkins

Long cheap travel, humiliation and bloody mattresses; I've reached the zenith of education! Got Napster? Then "I'm Your Late Night Evening Prostitute" by Tom Waits goes well here.

In 1996, I was living in Tokyo. I was a teacher/trainer for Interac. The day was April 28, and it was 6:00am. My phone rang, and tearful, sobbing voice came on the phone. It was my sister Terry. "I don't know how to tell you this....Dad's dead." I tried to calm her down and get more information. Apparently he'd been in a business meeting when he suddenly collapsed from a heart attack. He was rushed to the hospital, but he never regained consciousness. I told her that I'd be back home as soon as I could. I immediately called my boss and explained the situation.

I had been in Japan for 18 months when GEOS scheduled its next training seminar. The training was to be held in the head office in Osaki on Sunday and Monday so that none of our classes would be canceled.

I was happy to learn that some of my friends from recruitment and hiring days would also be at the same training as I.

Training started at about 10:00 in the am with a quick get to know you activity. Everything at GEOS had to be some kind of convoluted "learning exercise" Today's fun and merriment would begin with a rousing memory game.

Sept. 1992, Geos hiring office, Vancouver, corner of Howe and Nelson, 3:38pm.

"Thank you very much, Junko and Kyoko. I hope you enjoyed the lesson. Enjoy your stay in Vancouver." I walked out of the room.

I had just given my demonstration lesson to a couple of Japanese high school students doing home stays in Vancouver at the Geos hiring office and I was walking back to the interview office. The students were now filling in questionnaires about my lesson and the video tape of the demo was being critiqued by the hiring staff.

I was a student at GEOS for about six months before I was recommended to join another class. That class was supposed to be a higher level group lesson. There were six or seven students in that class. There were a couple of high school students, a couple of office workers, and a couple of housewives. All of them were women, including the teacher.