Where there is hope, there is a way!

Never are all doors closed. We live in an increasingly dipolar planet between two extreme ends, which provide us opportunities to overcome difficulties. Some schools needed teachers who would be willing to visit a well-off student at their home to save them the 3 hours it would take to get to class for a 90-minute lesson, or for a late-afternoon Saturday class. Native speakers generally did not want to take on those classes because they were not profitable or they simply preferred to have a beer with a pal on a Saturday rather than teach English. For me, it was simply not a time to be choosy. Gratefully, I took on these left-over classes to launch me in teaching, even temporarily. I was confident that once I proved my ability, more work would follow.

Days of job inquiries had continued unceasingly until that fateful day when my eyes caught an ad about an American-based, highly-prestigious international language school that offered not only English, but other foreign languages as well. There I was, standing in my friend’s ‘genkan’, barely a meter long space inside the front door and next to the elongated kitchen; the phone and the phone number right in front of me. I was wavering between the thoughts of calling and getting rejected again, and wondering if there could remotely be a position for a Persian instructor. With almost no hope that this time it would prove to be any different, I decided against the odds and called. There was no job for a Persian instructor. No surprise. However, something far better than what I expected was waiting for me.

The American head teacher, a professional linguist, specialized in teacher-training and curriculum development of that school, had completely a different idea about learning English from a native speaker. He perceived (as it should be) language as an important communication tool and believed that English is a global language used around the world. He emphasized that learners needed to be exposed to different accents and pronunciations. I would immediately secure an appointment for an interview.

In our meeting, I found him friendly and very confident. I was tense after all that I had experienced up until then, but his pleasant personality put me at ease right away. Throughout the interview, he asked essential questions including relevant work experience, and seemed satisfied with what I had to offer. The interview was conducted in English, so I don’t believe he found anything absurd or peculiar in my accent that would presumably hinder communication. I was hired.

Enthusiastically, I took the two-week training course. The school was specialized in one-on-one and small group lessons. Students already had learned enough grammar and vocabulary in high school; they just wanted to be able to speak English with someone. The school also had exclusive materials that I found well developed for private lessons. In addition, they had a methodology for teaching those materials. The two-week training period helped me get a solid background and added to my teaching experience I already acquired in the Philippines and Iran.  

When the training was over, I was given weekly classes right away. Still living in Osaka, I was really thrilled, and a little boastful to be able to find a job in a country ranked second best economy in the world, walking alongside those haughty-looking businessmen, ‘sararimantachi’, on my way returning home in those miles-long crowded underground passages. I realized I still had a lot to learn but I was doing whatever I possibly could. After sometime, the Nagoya branch needed teachers. So, I was dispatched to Nagoya from time to time. Incredible! Although rejected by much smaller schools, I was sent on business trips by this one. It gave me a feeling of accomplishment that my contribution to society mattered!

Shinkansen-ride thrill

Riding the Shinkansen bullet train, then the fastest train in the world, was quite an event, reminding me of train rides taken during my childhood, but with everything in stark contrast. When I was a kid, my family used to take the train to my mother’s hometown in northern Iran, near the Caspian Sea. The trains, bought from Europe, were probably manufactured before World War I. They looked like antiques, the ones with compartments that now a days, we can see only in classic movies. It seemed to take forever to reach your destination. Of course, as a child, I loved the long rides. Sitting in the Shinkansen, enjoying coffee at the dining car while watching the scenic view and reminiscing the childhood memories was truly delightful. When approaching the terminal, slowly advancing with its projected snout, some passengers on the platform excitedly taking photos, the Shinkansen looked uniquely majestic, like a passing dignitary saluting soldiers.