Archive for March, 2017
“No interacting with students outside of the classroom” is one of the cornerstones of NOVA employee policy. The idea is to prevent teachers from stealing students from the school for cheaper private lessons, and to reduce the risk of any unpleasant interactions that could cause the students to stop buying lessons.
** Please remember, when I say “students”, I am referring to conversation school students who are typically adults.
In Kawasaki I was aware that some teachers were seeing students outside of the classroom, but when I arrived in eastern Shizuoka I was surprised by how often it happened. Pretty much everyone other than supervisors had been to an “unofficial” farewell party with students in attendance. In addition, several of the teachers are or were dating students, and my friend Koalako shared an apartment with two teachers in Numazu.
Hanging out with students was an open secret in the area, with the understanding that everyone should keep it quiet and not let the supervisors or Japanese branch staff know. For the amount of times that teachers and students interacted outside of the classroom, it’s actually surprising how few people got caught. The good luck streak was broken in mid 2006 when teachers got caught red handed.
The two male teachers had invited two female Japanese students out for a drink, and for some reason decided to go to an izakaya near Fuji school that was popular with the Japanese branch staff. They were seated near the entrance, when coincidentally the branch staff came in for an after work drink as well. My understanding is that the teachers were called to a tense meeting with the area manager shortly after to remind them of NOVA’s policies.
I can understand NOVA’s point of view about the policy: they are a business and they need to protect their future profits. However, I think there is a lot of benefit from teachers and students interacting outside of the confines of the classroom. The best way to practice conversational English is to have a real conversation. Interacting outside of the classroom in a natural setting is also a great way to improve intercultural understanding. Other than good times at karaoke, I got a lot more out of my time in Japan by spending time with Japanese people instead of just teachers.
If you are teaching in Japan and decide to ignore company policy by hanging out with students, please be sensible, behave properly, and don’t ruin it for everyone else. Also, choose the venue carefully: you don’t want branch staff to crash the party!
It can’t seriously be July already!?!? The first half of this year absolutely flew by.
We need some more Canadians in the Numazu area so I can celebrate Canada Day.
Not sure the exact date this happened, but I’m pretty sure it was mid 2006.
Due to the lifestyle of an English teacher, I’m used to having red eyes that are sensitive to light. However in late June my eyes started bothering me in a way that I couldn’t attribute to hangovers. Regular eye drops didn’t seem to help, and I eventually started to realize that I had pink eye aka conjunctivitis.
I haven’t had pink eye since I was a kid. At the time, almost all of the kids I knew had it, and I remember fighting my parents over the use of painful eye drops to fix the problem. Now, as an adult, I had to seek out the painful eye drops and buy them in a language that I was still learning.
I used my English / Japanese dictionary to look up the word for conjunctivitis, and then confirmed with the Japanese staff at work that I had the right word. When it comes to taking medicine, it’s very important to make sure you get the translation right! The staff, at a safe distance, confirmed that the word I needed was 結膜炎, which is read as ketsumakuen.
After work I rode my bike to Seiyu and started looking around the pharmacy section. I found a section with eye drops and contact lens solution, and then started slowly scanning the packages for the the characters 結膜炎. This is not an easy process, especially with irritated eyes. After a few minutes of looking I decided to suck it up and ask for assistance.
There was a clerk nearby, so I told him in Japanese something along the lines of “excuse me, I have pink eye. I would like to buy medicine.” He showed me that there were three different products not far from where I had been looking. I asked him which one was the best, and he pointed out one of them as being popular because it was the easiest to use. I thanked him, made my purchase, and headed home.
Inside the box were a whole row of small disposable plastic vials, each containing one dose of medicine. I was happy that I didn’t have to try to read the dosage instructions in Japanese, but I did question the wisdom of disposable packaging in a country where it is notoriously hard to dispose of garbage. The eye drops stung like crazy, but my pink eye was gone within a few days.
Taking care of your health in a country where you don’t speak the language can be scary. There are a few good English language help lines for gaijins, but it never hurts to have some local contacts to ask too. Stay healthy friends!
This is the second in a three part series about one of the most infamous English students in the eastern Shizuoka area; The Thesaurus, who had a more impressive English vocabulary than some of the teachers I worked with. On one fateful evening I ended up in a vocabulary showdown with The Thesaurus in front of a room full of students. I barely came out with a victory.
The Voice room usually has open conversation or some English activities designed to keep everyone involved. The room was full of students from all skill levels, and the infamous Thesaurus. The previous teacher had been teaching some common English idioms to the students (a common topic), so I decided to turn this into a game.
I wrote one of the idioms across the whiteboard, and told the students that using the only the letters on the board, they had to make as many words as they could within a certain time limit. Words had to be at least 3 letters long, and I would award one point per letter. I divided the students up into teams, leaving The Thesaurus on his own, and started the timer. The game worked surprisingly well; students at lower levels came up with lots of small words, while The Thesaurus worked on pulling out the largest words he knew. Any words that students didn’t know got explained to the room.
I repeated this a few more times with continued success. As the time was running out, somehow the room came up with the idea that I should challenge The Thesaurus. I felt like I was playing for the pride of the teachers, honestly worried about being beaten by a man who read the dictionary for fun. The stakes were high and the pressure was on.
We took turns identifying words that we could build. With only minutes left, The Thesaurus managed to find an obscure 11 letter word that could be assembled from the letters available. I was on the spot – flashbacks of endless games of Scrabble against my mother played in my head, defeat after defeat coming into my mind. Here I was, a native English speaker, about to lose a word game of my own creation against the most infamous student in that has ever walked into a NOVA classroom in the Shizuoka area. It would be a blow to the teachers, and to Canadian English as a whole. The students were on the edge of their seats waiting for me to pull out a language miracle.
As I was beginning to lose hope, I saw my savior: the glorious letter “S”. I added it to the end of The Thesaurus’s word, pluralizing it to create a 12 letter word, one more than his 11 letter word. The students oohed and aahed as I wrote down my final word, barely claiming victory from the jaws of an embarrassing defeat as the class drew to a close.
I don’t know if this game was as memorable for anyone else in the room, but I won’t soon forget my epic vocabulary showdown with The Thesaurus.
This is the second in a three part series about one of the most infamous English students in the eastern Shizuoka area; The Thesaurus, who I honestly believe was trying to memorize the entire Oxford dictionary.
During a special topic lesson in the Voice room one evening, I think I accidentally stumbled across the reason for his love of vocabulary: I learned the origins of The Thesaurus.
I was teaching a two period interactive lesson about calling in sick. The first part of the lesson was to introduce words to describe common ailments. I taught the students about flu, headache, sprains, broken bones, and other common topics. When we got to problems with the digestive system, The Thesaurus jumped in with a personal story.
Years earlier, when he was just beginning to learn English, The Thesaurus was on his honeymoon in Niagara Falls. Like many travelers who were exposed to different food, he got the most common of all travel illnesses, diarrhea. He went to a drug store near his hotel and tried to get advice from the pharmacist on what medicine to buy. The Thesaurus didn’t know the exact name of his problem, so he did what every traveler has done: use a combination of small words and gestures to explain himself. The pharmacist misunderstood his pantomime and sold him a laxative instead.
Fortunately for The Thesaurus, he decided to pull out his English – Japanese dictionary before he left the store to confirm what he had purchased (I don’t know why he didn’t do this in the first place). He realized his mistake before making his problem much worse, and left the drug store with the correct medicine.
For the class, this was a valuable story that taught some new words and worked well with the theme of my lesson. For me, this was like getting a flashback style exposition in a superhero movie; I finally understood what started this mild mannered salaryman on his path to becoming a human Thesaurus, obsessed with learning every word that the English language had to offer. Suddenly everything made a lot more sense.
This experience didn’t stop The Thesaurus from being a challenging student, but it did make him more relatable. It also made me extra careful any time I needed to buy medicine in my second language! Remember kids: a dictionary is your friend at the drug store.
This is the first in a three part series about one of the most infamous English students in the eastern Shizuoka area; The Thesaurus. He was a middle aged salaryman who believed that to master English, he needed to learn and use only the longest and most complicated words available in any situation. This approach made him challenging in lessons, and nearly impossible in the Voice room where students of all skill levels could attend.
As someone who has taught English while learning a second language, I learned that while a large vocabulary is useful, it is not critical to communication. “Where is the toilet” can be just as effective as “excuse me kind sir, my bladder is full and I am looking for an appropriate receptacle to expel urine. Could you please direct me to the nearest washroom facility post haste?”. If you can imagine the second sentence being spoken in a monotone voice, you would have a good idea of what talking to The Thesaurus was like.
The Voice room was The Thesaurus’s favourite place to hang out. He would come for several periods, making the room difficult or impossible for the lower level students. There are even some students who would check to see if The Thesaurus was in the Voice room before they entered. If he was there, they would take a lesson or go to a nearby school’s Voice room. The Thesaurus had the ability to adjust his speaking to students of all skill levels, he just wasn’t interested in doing so.
I had two tactics for working with The Thesaurus in the Voice room: the first was to stealthily break up the students into two conversations, one for The Thesaurus and anyone else who wanted to test their dictionary recall, and one for everyone else. This wasn’t ideal, but at least everyone could participate. My second tactic was to have one open conversation, and write down the most difficult words that The Thesaurus used on the whiteboard so the other students could look them up. This could work as long as we stayed with topics that were interesting to most, and not more obscure topics like the system of government in Turkey (yes, this was really something he tried to talk about).
To make matters worse, The Thesaurus was the only student I knew who had an Arch Enemy: another middle aged salary man who was generally well liked by other students and teachers. The Arch Enemy HATED The Thesaurus, and wasn’t shy in expressing this to anyone who would listen. The Arch Enemy would make a point of sitting right next to The Thesaurus to make him uncomfortable. When The Thesaurus started showing off his extensive lexicon, Arch Enemy would interrupt and tell him that nobody wanted to hear what he had to say. There is even a rumour of The Arch Enemy throwing his newspaper at The Thesaurus once. The Arch Enemy was intimidating at best, and bullying at worst, but only to The Thesaurus.
This kind of outright hostility was very unusual in Japanese society, and even more unusual in a classroom setting. It was uncomfortable for all involved, and everyone would feel a bit better when one of the two of them would leave the Voice room.
Overall, I don’t think that The Thesaurus was a bad person, he was just a challenging student. If someone wants to pay money for English lessons and has a goal in mind, it’s their right to be there. The problem was that he rarely considered the goals of the other students in the room, which helped make him one of the most difficult lessons that a teacher in the area could experience.
To put a positive spin on things: teaching The Thesaurus was a great way to build classroom management skills, learn some new words (even for teachers), and also a great excuse to go for a beer after work.