To explain what I learned teaching overseas, I always tell two experiences. When I arrived at Narita Airport, just outside of Tokyo, I hadn’t slept for about 25 hours. It’s a loooooong flight. I was disoriented and jet lagged and so exhausted I wasn’t even nervous. The person from my school who met me at the airport gave me a bus ticket and told me to find the bus stop. There I was, alone at the airport. I tried to ask a woman at a help desk, but I had almost no Japanese, and she had almost no English. I ventured outside to try and find the bus stop. I found something I thought was it, but I was so tired I didn’t really care. I never knew you could be that exhausted. An old man shuffled up and kind of stared at me. A bus pulled up and the driver got off. The old man gently tugged my ticket out of my hand and started talking to the bus driver. Again, I was too tired to protest or be alarmed. The man turned back to me, handed me back the ticket, made the okay sign with his thumb and finger, and said, “Okay”.
That’s how I started in Japan. But it wasn’t just the unexpected kindnesses I encountered so many times that makes that time special. Japan strengthened me. It forced me to do things I wasn’t sure I could do. It made me stronger, more confident, more at ease with myself.
Every little thing was work. Before I went to buy a tv, I sat down and looked up words in my dictionary, wrote down phrases I might need, practiced them, tried to commit them to memory. It was an all day affair. When the store called me a few days later to schedule a delivery time, I successfully arranged it. I was so excited. The first time I ordered pizza over the phone, I was so proud. One day, after I had been there a while, I did my monthly trip to the post office to wire money back to the US. My number was called, and I went up to the counter and explained what I needed in Japanese. The woman was surprised and we did the whole process in Japanese. She understood me and I understood her. She kept watching me with an impressed smile on her face.
My students taught me more than I taught them. At least, they taught me more important things. I discovered that people who look so ordinary have done and seen amazing things. I met so many interesting worlds in all those students. A 50 year old housewife went hiking with wine and chocolate every weekend. A genteel mother of two young children opened up to me about her fiercely held political views. An arrogant surgeon almost broke down when telling about a patient he lost. A guy who seemed standoffish turned out to have intense chronic back pain from a car accident. The 12 year old who always looked miserable lit up when talking about swimming and his dream of being a coach. I learned that everyone is worth getting to know.
When I was finally leaving Japan, I went to the airport by myself. I wanted to be alone with Japan. That’s the only way I know how to describe it. I got a van service to the airport. I was the first one in and the driver was an English student. We chatted a bit. His English really wasn’t very good, and I was a bit too emotional to feel like talking, but I kept up what conversation I could. One more English lesson, I figured. Other people got in and it got pretty crowded. We stopped at a rest area on the way to the airport to stretch our legs. This was also where we were supposed to pay the driver. I went up to him with my yen in hand, and he acted very odd and positioned himself so the other passengers couldn’t see. He then said, “You no pay. Because you are teacher, and people like you help me. So ride is free. No pay. You teacher.” Yep, one more lesson, but not about English.



