The big one first: I actually started teaching! The style of teaching was a lot more casual, and a lot more effective than I thought it'd be. The principal aim of the school is to achieve conversational fluency. This is done through games and open conversation rather than lecturing. As an ex-tutor and informal teacher, this was incredibly surprising. I thought I’d planned things out, but it turns out “plan” and “reality” don’t always speak the same language either.
Okay, so let’s talk about Gifu. I was wandering around when a group of old locals started chatting to me. Feeling brave, I replied in Japanese. Big mistake. Or a brilliant one, depending on how you look at it. My one confident sentence convinced them I was fluent, and they launched into a full-speed conversation I could not follow at all.
What did I do? I nodded. A lot. Smiled. Nodded some more. I have absolutely no idea what I agreed to, and for all I know I accepted an invitation to dinner or a position on a local committee. They seemed happy, though, so I’m calling it a win.
It was a weirdly perfect lesson in how far a little effort goes, and how quickly it can run out. Even though I understood about 5% of it, the whole thing felt warm and welcoming.
On a calmer note, I spent a day in Osu hunting for a kimono for my sister, and I found one! If you haven’t been, Osu is a brilliant mix of old-school shops, street food and vintage stalls, and it’s very easy to lose a few hours just wandering. My one piece of advice for kimono shopping: the more colour, the better. I was pulled towards the loudest, brightest patterns on the rack, and honestly, why would you go for anything else?
Beyond the teaching and the adventures, I’ve been trying to work out where I can actually be useful, and one thing stood out quickly: English and Japanese learning at the school feel like two separate worlds. Students do English with the English teachers and me, Japanese with everyone else, and the two barely overlap.
The knock-on effect is that it chips away at the sense of community. When the languages are kept apart, students and staff who are learning each other’s language don’t get to meet in the middle, and that feels like a missed opportunity for everyone, me included.
So I plan to spend the next few weeks observing, chatting to teachers about what they see, and looking for ways to bring the two together. Think shared activities, bilingual projects, or classes where Japanese and English support each other rather than compete. It’s early days, but I’m excited to see what’s possible.
Lost in translation, in every sense: language, directions, and the occasional classroom instruction. But it turns out that nodding and smiling gets you surprisingly far, and I’m already looking forward to week two.