At 6AM Enka music that would wake all the dead in a Stephen King novel, rang out from the old, tinny Nagoya youth hostel speakers. Apparently it was time to get up.

1. At 6AM Enka music that would wake all the dead in a Stephen King novel,
rang out from the old, tinny Nagoya youth hostel speakers. Apparently it
was time to get up. After a cheap, but grueling 30 hour journey (with
various stop overs), Korean airlines had finally deposited me in Nagoya,
Japan. Next I was whisked away to this youth hostel by seven Japanese
women, whom I'd met while working as a program assistant for Columbia
College in Vancouver. These young, kind, attractive Japanese women had
done a homestay in Canada, and my job was to take them around the city.
I got to go out with some of the most beautiful, exotic women from around
the world, take them hiking, sightseeing, dancing, out to dinner, and on
romantic cruises. And they paid me!
In my sleepy reverie I staggered to the showers and almost bumped into
two Californians named Jeff and Brian. They were both planning to teach
English though neither had a job lined up yet. I had arranged my position
before I came. Whether this was a mistake or not, I had yet to find out.
After talking for a bit, Jeff, Brian and I exchanged contact information, and
promised to keep in touch.
My friend Naomi picked me up at around noon and we went to meet my boss
Mark for lunch at a local family restaurant. It was strange to see a
restaurant that looked like home, but of course, was filled almost entirely
with Japanese people. I felt uncomfortable as I was an object of attention as
we waited for our table. This would be a challenge I would need to conquer,
getting used to being stared at, almost everywhere I went. Being very tall
for Japan, I stand over 6'2," I got a lot of attention wherever I went, even in
a large city like Nagoya. Although, this Aichi city boasted over 2 million
people, it was not very cosmopolitan, and I had vaulted into being a member
of an extremely small minority, almost overnight. It has been said that for a
caucasian, coming to Japan can give one an idea of what it must be like to
be African North American back home. To a small extent, I think this is true.
It is definitely a worthwhile experience to be a member of a minority for a
while. It opens one's eyes to what it must feel like to be the only Chinese
boy in an all caucasian class for example.
I spent the night in Mark's apartment having dinner and getting to know he
and his family. The next day he proudly showed me the apartment and I
tried to hide my shock. Even though I had read in Wharton's book, "Working
in Japan," that Japanese apartments didn't come with much, it was still
surprising to see that I didn't even have any lights. Mark handed me a small
plastic light fixture, that if I am nice about, I would say looked like a K-Mart
reject. "A friend gave me this." I could see why, I thought. Obviously not a

2. good friend. We screwed it into the kitchen ceiling. At least I would be able
to see what I was chewing!
According to him this apartment was huge. According to me, it wasn't much
bigger than my bedroom back home in Vancouver. It was a 2DK in Japanese
apartment lingo. I had a Japanese oil heated bath, which everyone should
try at least once. It was very deep; like a big cube in shape. Although tall, I
fit in it nicely and the water came up to my neck. It was very nice on those
cold Nagoya mornings.
Jeff and Brian came over to my apartment a day or two later. I offered them
the second bedroom until they found a place of their own. I'm happy I did as
Jeff and I ended up becoming good friends.
Jeff being the taller and more striking of the two, landed his teaching
position first. Brian struggled for a while, and finally was hired by a chain
called Bilingual. Jeff worked for a school called Simpson. If either had been
of an Asian minority or African North American, securing a teaching position
would have been more difficult. Fitting the general image of what an English
teacher should look and sound like (according to Japanese English School
managers ) however, they both found positions relatively easily. Americans
tend to be the most in demand, Britons too have their English school
manager fans. Canadians rank as quasi- Americans, and New Zealanders
and Aussies seem to have a tougher time landing a teaching position.
Though thisseems to be changing. Aussies lately seemto have their fans.
My new friends were good company, often having spirited hockey games in
the kitchen with the cockroaches. The roaches being black, almost looked
like miniature pucks, and we would cheer as Jeff shot them out the door.
"He scores!" They were very good hockey players for Californians! Do they
have roach hockey in the USA? It really should be an Olympic sport,
especially if they are going to include the luge! Be honest, when was the last
time you luged? My friend back home is a real luger.(Bad Pun!) I won't
mention his name though for fear of his being ostracized.
Gomi & Cults in the Tokai City of Concrete
My friend John, had bragged of furnishing his whole apartment with
garbage, during his stint in Japan. Maybe that was why I preferred not to
introduce him to close friends. Not without a warning anyway. "I'm going to
introduce you to my friend John, you know the one who brags about
garbage?" John had worked for a securities firm in Tokyo for a couple of
years called Marui Securities. He was the editor of their English newsletter
and the company English teacher. He had left for other lands in Asia after

3. that commenting, "The Japanese are some of the most tight-assed people in
the world." I got the impression that he didn't like them much.
Because of my friend's love of Japanese trash, we decided to try our luck. It
was tough though as there were others out to do the same. A couple of
Japanese guys went around in a van and often took the pickings before we
could get there. Apart from free porno magazines we didn't find much of
interest. (About the porno magazines--I just read the articles).
Brian and I did find two beautiful pots, that turned out to be the old
Japanese hibachi, or heaters. I now use them as pots for plants. I am still
surprised that someone had thrown them away!
One day Jeff came to my place and first having me promise not to breath a
word about what he was going to say, he told me his story. Soon after Jeff
started working at Simpson, he noticed that all of the secretaries spent long
hours at their desks studying Korean. When Jeff asked why they were
studying the language, they replied that they would soon move to Korea and
get married. Every few months it seemed, a new group of secretaries would
start work, to replace the others who had left for Seoul. This bothered Jeff.
What was going on?
He was convinced his school was owned by a cult. He wasn't very
comfortable with the thought of working for a cult owned school. Neither
was I! The thought of a group of hooded members taking Jeff away in the
middle of the night, entered my thoughts. I quickly thought of cockroach
hockey games to take my mind off of this nightmare Jeff was in. I locked the
door after he left.
Without a Telephone, No One Can Hear You Scream! Fall 1989
To get a phone at this time, you had to fork over about 800 dollars US. I
couldn't afford it! Now you can get a reasonably priced cell phone, but back
then there weren't any...
I lie here in my apartment in Nagoya, staring at the ceiling. It is scary
running a temperature when you are all alone in a foreign country. If this
isn't just the flu, I don't even have a phone to call an ambulance. I realize in
my pyrexic daze that I don't know what to say in Japanese, had I had a
phone. I might be able to get across my address with my poor
pronunciation, and if they are smart enough to assume I'm in trouble and
not making a crank call, they might send someone. If I do need to call, I'll
have to stagger or crawl to the public phone down the street.

4. Although it's freezing, I am hot. Central heating is virtually unknown in
Japan. I have two small electric heaters to heat my whole apartment (not
that I need them tonight). In the morning, I see my breath inside my
apartment. (Which is another new experience for me!) I can see the stars
outside as I don't even have curtains. I am not alone in feeling it is often
warmer outside than it is inside my place. The cockroaches agree. They stay
outside as they know it is warmer!
My first impression of the biggest city in Aichi Prefecture is of a grey
concrete city of no discernable personality. It is depressingly ugly. So ugly in
fact that I feel the need to talk about it with the other foreigners I've met,
just to be sure that I am not being too negative about it. Am I going through
culture shock I ask myself? Probably. It's funny, few people will ever admit
they are going through culture shock. It seems to be a very embarrassing
topic for many people-as if they would have to admit to some flaw of
character. Yet I am not ashamed and feel a need to talk about this ugly city.
My foreign friends agree though, that Nagoya is one of the ugliest cities they
have ever been to. The concensus amongst us seems to be that because
Nagoya was rebuilt in a big hurry after the war, money was scarce and
during the 40's and 50's concrete was in vogue. So you get this butt- ugly
city called Nagoya with many 5-10 story, concrete, shoe box buildings.
There isn't much foliage to interrupt the endless boxlike flow towards
downtown.
Yet I walk around, and their are vestiges of beauty. There are delightful old
Japanese houses with traditional style gardens including bonsai trees. The
river near my apartment is tree lined with cherry trees and I contemplate a
Spring of beautiful pink cherry blossoms floating down on me. Thankfully
Nagoya is nicer than first appearances. The neighbourhoods are her saving
grace.
English School
I work for a small school near my apartment. They have sponsored me for
my visa along with another school. My boss, Mark from Minnesota, is fond of
four letter words in both English and Japanese, talking about how he would
like to "do it with that little high school girl..." and he is fond of cutting gold
fish with scissors, hoping his pirahnas will attack them. They never do; and
look bored in fact. I am called "squeamish" when I protest his ritual of
cutting the goldfish. This is the man I work for. Minnesota; is that where
many people are in-bred? I can't remember.
I also work for another school called St. Maria College. It is a women's two
year college coupled with a language school. There we use a method similar

5. to Berlitz. It is quite classy looking inside. Unfortunately, most of the
students are not very serious about their studies, and seem content to pass
the time until the day they get married.
Working there to some extent is like being a child in a candy story. There
are a bevy of beautiful, eligable young women, but for a young teacher, they
are off limits of course. I am advised by Craig, the Scottish head of the
English Department, to "...have the students call you Mr. Burns. You being a
young teacher, I think it is important that you keep some distance from the
young women students we have here. If they call you Kevin, they will feel
closer to you." What's wrong with that? I secretly conspired. But I agreed
with Craig, Mr. Burns it was. I looked but didn't touch.
Every English School has a personality, as does every class in fact. Both are
shaped by the teachers and students, and in the case of a school, the office
staff as well.
I was a friendly, small town Canadian guy, coming to live and work in Japan
for the first time. It was rough at first to say the least.
To come to Japan takes guts. You have to leave your friends and family back
home, you no longer have the social supports you did in your hometown.
From scratch you have to make a new life for yourself, and other people of
course, may not want to be a part of "KEVIN"S NEW LIFE IN JAPAN!--the
maudlin game show announcer wailed. "So Jack are you going to watch the
Superbowl on Sunday?"--I asked hoping to start a conversation. "Of course I
am!" He practically yelled in disgust. I soon learned that I reminded Jack of
someone he knew during the war-- perhaps someone he had wanted to
strangle with his bare hands. I never broached the Superbowl topic again. I
wanted to see my 27th birthday! Jack was high strung and had just gone
through a painful divorce. Can't imagine why--what a delightful personality.
He was working twelve hours a day, six days a week. Can you say, "on
edge?" I asked a mutual friend, "What's up with Jack?" She said, "He finds
you too friendly."
I decided I would back off. I took to wearing turtle necks in case Jack lost it-
-hoping somehow the material would help me to slip out of his sanguinary
hands. It worked. He lightened up and started talking to me more. He
turned out to be a pretty good guy once you got to know him. I lived to see
my 27th birthday.
I Will Never, Ever Touch The English Department Director Again!

6. Jan-March, 1990, Nagoya, Japan From almost the first day of working at St.
Maria College I was warned, "Don't ever touch Craig." Even Craig himself
had warned me. There were stories of full-grown teachers, being spanked
over Craig's lap for transgressing his personal space. "You're joking?" I said
one day to Cathy. She wasn't.
Being a pretty touchy guy, it is hard for me not to pat someone on the
shoulder or give someone a playful,light punch on the arm. Craig seemed
harmless to me, he came from mymother`s native land, and we got along
well. He sometimes took me out for beer and steak at his expense. What
wasn't there to like? One day in a humorous mood, as I am apt to be, I
tickled Craig as I walked by. Next thing I knew, I was grabbed from behind,
punched very hard in the shoulder, spun around, and had an English
Director, screaming in my face in Scottish brogue about how I should never,
ever touch him again! In a daze I continued to the staff room my heart
pounding. The man had a definite problem that really required counselling.
Everyone knew it, but Craig I surmise had never paid for a doctor.
This man I had considered to be a friend was totally changed for me. I felt I
had to be on guard around him, always having to remember to never, ever
touch him for fear of being physically assaulted. I never entertained taking
him to court, but instead felt sorry for him. He was single and I imagined
this phobia about being touched was caused by some kind of child abuse
many years before. But I never found out the reason why. Craig very
sweetly apologized to me the next day, but also said that he had warned
me. I had forgotten the warning. I never would again. Neither would Brenda,
the fellow Canadian who had been spanked over her boss's knee a year
earlier. After bawling during this episode, she would never forget the
warnings either.
As the weeks turned into months, my culture shock eased. Nagoya became
more interesting and more bearable to look at. New colleagues arrived and
they made work more interesting. Kim Robinson from Boston was a breath
of fresh air and so was Margaret from Australia. We had a great time joking
around and chumming around the city. Jeff, Brian and I joined a
multicultural soccer team and this helped fill the hours too. There was
dancing at some of the crazy night-clubs of Sakae-cho and barbecue parties
in the countryside. I missed my family and friends back home, but I was
making a new life.
Ikumi, a beautiful 27 year old woman I had met during my days working for
Columbia College kept coming out to visit me and taking me places, showing
me her beautiful country. She had gorgeous almond eyes, a cute laugh and
smile, and was one of the most exotic women I had ever met. She had a

7. sense of humour too and she was smart. I went out to visit her a few times
in her hometown of Minami Ashigara. She owned a small boutique, could
speak English well, and was the top tennis player of her area. Being a tennis
nut myself,I felt I had met my match. As a child, I had always felt I should
go to Japan, maybe Ikumi was the reason why. After a trip together to
Thailand in December, (partly to visit my gomi collecting friend), I felt I
should move out to be with her, and set my mind to doing so. It would be
hard starting over yet again, but the thought of being near her was exciting.
By the end of March, 1990 my goldfish cutting boss at my other school, due
perhaps to a little karmic retribution, didn't have enough students to employ
me. So I had picked up more hours at St. Maria's.
On to Hon Atsugi and ECC
In late January, I had confided to Craig that I would be leaving for
Kanagawa Prefecture and Ikumi. I wanted to give them a couple of months
to find my replacement. On March 30th, I handed in my official letter of
resignation. In it I told them they should warn all new teachers and students
about Craig; and raise the starting salary, a salary that hadn't been raised in
many years, and was one of the lowest in Nagoya at the time.
In my heart, I knew they would never warn students about Craig, and hoped
he wouldn't do the same to a student as he had done to Brenda and I.
It would be great to be with Ikumi more, and live in a different part of the
country. The thought of being able to go into Tokyo sometimes was also
intriguing.
I moved on March 30th and my new home was Hon Atsugi, a city of about
400,000 souls, 50 minutes south of Tokyo. My 4 year old apartment was a
rokujo or six tatami mat flat. There was one room about 3 and a half metres
square. There was a hallway that doubled as a kitchen leading to the room
and off the hallway was a tiny unit bath with a toilet. I was about 15-20
minutes walk from the main ECC school I would work at. There was no air
conditioner and I didn't feel like paying the huge amount of money I would
have had to pay to buy one.
In the summer I had the experience of having a sauna right in my
apartment. My boss at ECC was very impressed that I came to work one
hour early everyday. I never told him it was because ECC was air
conditioned. He didn't need to know!

8. Hon Atsugi seemed like a cheap imitation of an American city, without the
parks and large trees. It was near to many beautiful places though. You
could go hiking in the Tanzawa mountains only thirty minutes away by bus.
Chigasaki, a small beach community was nearby. It was home to many
famous singers, and artisans, not to mention surf loving Aussies. Enoshima
another nice beach town and interesting island was just up the coast from
Chigasaki. Hon Atsugi boasted a brand new library with free English movies.
I was to love that! Oiso too was a nice little beach town and I was within one
hour of Tokyo or Yokohama and close to Ikumi as well.
So I managed to land a job with what was then the largest English school
chain in Japan. I was paid 276,000 Yen per month which was pretty good for
20 hours of work per week and being 27 years old! I picked up some private
lessons on my own and in four months, I proudly sent home over 10,000
dollars to Canada! In my second year with ECC, my salary went up to
296,000 Yen and with my private lessons I made around 350,000 Yen per
month. My rent was only 45,000/month and I could live very cheaply if I
wanted to. I was able to save a lot.
I worked a twelve hour teaching day on Tuesdays. I got up at 4 AM,
staggered to the train station, and took the earliest train to Tokyo so I could
get a seat and sleep. I taught in the fashionable area, Shibuya from 7-9AM,
then took the train back to Hon Atsugi, was picked up by my private student
and she drove me to my apartment where I taught her for the next hour, I
ate lunch, then a Korean couple came by for their lesson from 1-3PM. From
5:20-9:20 I taught at the ECC in Hon Atsugi and after that I taught a doctor
and his wife. It was a 30,000 Yen day. It was a killer day but I enjoyed
counting the money.
One reason I chose to work for ECC was the fact that I would have my days
free. I have always been into more and more freedom. ECC offered a good
salary and reputation. The fact that I only had to show up for four hours per
night, was also a major attraction. The longer you are in Japan, the more
opportunities come your way. If you hustle, you can pick up private lessons
on your own as I mentioned. When teachers leave for home, they often have
students they need taught. When Mary Ellen left for the States, she
mentioned that the Machida YMCA would need to replace her. She put in a
good word for me and I ended up with another two mornings of work per
week at good pay. The manager was a great guy. Mr. Minamida had lived in
Vancouver, and knew Westerners well. He was a great boss and I learned a
lot about how to manage from his laid back style. The YMCA had no time
clock. You didn't need to punch a time card as you did at ECC. They seemed
to trust their teachers more and treated them with more respect.

9. ECC was an interesting place to work. There were so many different
characters there. My constantly sick boss Mr. Suzuki was there 6 days a
week at lower pay than the foreign teachers. He was a nice enough man, but
I never got to know him very well, although I enjoyed working for him. I
really wanted to land a good job near Ikumi, and after striking out in
Odawara, the nearest major city to her, I interviewed at other schools. I
figured that it was probably pretty rare for a Westerner to walk in the door
all dressed up, and asking about employment, as we were relatively far from
Tokyo. By doing so, I hoped to make a bit of a splash.
Mr. Suzuki was suitably impressed when I waltzed in, in my tailored suit with
my "Japanese fiance." The fianc� part really was a lie. We had no firm
plans to marry, but we were both thinking of heading in that direction, but
needed more time to get to know each other. I figured the Japanese
fianc� part, would further my chances for the job, and I really didn't mind
calling Ikumi my fianc�, and she didn't either.
Mr. Suzuki and I had a long talk and he seemed interested in me. He told
me to talk with ECC's head office, and I had the impression that he would
too.
A few weeks later I went to Shinjuku in Tokyo for an intense interview at
ECC's head office. I was interviewed by a couple of staff from the Personnel
Section, and then given thirty minutes to prepare a lesson. I felt good about
the lesson I taught to my fellow interviewee and I was hired shortly after. I
was so happy to get the chance to work for this famous school, and to be
near Ikumi!
Kevin Burns
animelovers