The Reluctant Gaijin in Japan: Recruitment and Working
Created | Updated Oct 13, 2010
So here I am. Owing to a set of circumstances largely beyond my control, I find myself living and working in Japan. I could tell you the circumstances, give reasons or excuses, but telling you isn't going to help. Let's face it, life – and other four letter words – happen.
Part Five: Recruitment and Working
If you've read my four previous articles, you have probably been wondering what job I'm doing here. Like so many people in Britain in the last couple of years, getting a real job back there was not so easy. I therefore decided to get a fake job instead.
Yes, like so many before me, I have got a job teaching English to unsuspecting foreigners. You can mock me now. Not only do these foreigners assume that all native English speakers talk perfick English, innit, but also they assume we understand and can explain all the technical complexities of the language – subjunctive, pluperfect, ellipsis, liaison...
The reality is, of course, quite different. Whilst many of us can speak English pretty well and get those written and spoken grammar constructions correct if we drop our colloquialisms and concentrate, very few of us can actually explain what we are doing. Luckily, English language schools don't care. The government of Japan does require that we have a degree, otherwise they won't grant a work permit, but that is as much as my company care about.
Pimie Lever's recruitment process back in London saw eleven of us whittled down to four, over a two-day interview. However, it wasn't the company doing the whittling. Over the course of the two days, the job, the minimum wages, the evening and weekend work and the fact that we had to commit to going anywhere, no matter how hot, cold or just plain dull it was, gradually showed through the camouflage. Only the desperate remained. All of us were either long-term unemployed, in a relationship with a Japanese or, in my case, both. We all got offers, including the one who was blatantly unsuitable (no, not me).
At my school I was greeted by a staff of four. Before I had even started working, the manager spent the trip to City Office to sort out my documentation telling me how terrible the company was. One of the teachers had already resigned, another said she was only there because she was too old to get a job anywhere else and the third declared that the job was only one step above being a bum. Welcome, then. You see, the job is really suited for twenty-somethings who don't want to re-learn grammar rules, but just want to bluff their way through the day and spend their free time soaking up Japanese culture or, in the case of a lot of the men, chasing naive Japanese women. Alarmingly, I now feel that these are exactly the type of employees the company wants, so if that's you, come on over! Unfortunately, I am trying to be good at my job and the company just doesn't know what to make of me. I am paid for 30 hours but working 60. I have actually found something I can do like a Japanese, but my cultural adaptation has fallen on stony ground.
The actual classes... well, I'm getting the hang of it, but they're not exactly well set up. In theory, there are many different levels and students in each class are of the same standard, but in practice some of the placements are arbitrary. One class has students of all different levels and is impossible to teach – it's been set up by a president of a company who wants himself and three employees in the same class. The children's classes, which are exactly the horror I feared, are set up by approximate age. This means that a bulky six year-old who spent two years in America is in the same class as two four and a half year olds who have only had a few lessons. Of course the older child is way ahead, thinks he knows everything and is bored, so he spends the lessons trying to destroy things, like my new suit, or the other students, whom he body-slams against the walls whenever I turn my attention to the board or the CD player.
The company itself appears to be insane. For about 30 years, Japan had its economic miracle, everything turned to gold and their economy almost rivalled the United States. Everybody did what they were told and everyone was happy. 20 years ago, the bubble burst and everything went flat. Companies fell on hard times, but the culture didn't change – no-one questions the wisdom of their superiors, even if that superior is a megalomaniac who makes sweeping decisions on a whim. Still, you've got to laugh. Oh, I've just been told that at Head Office you can't; everything is serious and laughter is frowned upon. Seriously, a teacher got into trouble for laughing whilst on a visit to Head Office. Can I sigh, at least?
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