A day in the life...

I've been meaning to do a post that would basically give anyone curious a typical day in the life of a Nova Employee.

First of all, let me draw a bit of a background; when you first arrive in Japan, if you come through employment by Nova, you are given accommodation immediately; it is here waiting for you. Saves a lot of the hassle of moving to a foreign country! So anyways, Nova has two options for potential employees; "branch" and "Multimedia Center". I went for the Multimedia Center because there was no way I could get stuck in the middle of nowhere; I desperately wanted to experience living in a big city.

So on to a typical day: I wake up between noon and one, surf the internet a bit, at the very least checking my email and the news, and possibly playing some computer games for an hour or so, depending on how much time I have... After that I quickly take a shower and shave, throw on my work clothes (business professional), then go out to the elevator, hit the call button and descend four floors, go out and hop on my bike, and spend the next 25 minutes navigating a sea of people and vehicles as I alternate between sidewalks and main streets. I usually arrive between ten and fifteen minutes before the start of my shift; it is good to have a bit of lead time because at the beginning of your shift, you immediately are teaching a lesson, so in reality you need at least five or so minutes to review the student(s) and prepare accordingly. Once I arrive at my own little skyscraper, I go inside and hit the call button, then hit "15th floor" (which is our "stand by room" aka - the room where we clock in and out, where our lockers* are, and where the management offices are located, as well as customer reception... lots of stuff on the 15th floor!)

*-Lockers only in the loosest sense; there is no lock involved.

Once there, I go up to the clock-in spot, grab my time card, clock in, then go to my locker and slip into my slippers, and grab my headset. You see, in Japan it is perfectly acceptable to wear slippers at work, and I take full advantage of this comfortable fact. My headset is headphones and a microphone, which I plug into the cubicle(s) I will use. On any given day, I switch cubles at least three times. Sometimes I am lucky and stay in one cubicle all day, other days I switch literally every lesson. Lessons are taught for fourty minutes, and range from almost-native-speakers to people who literally have no communicative ability in English. My favorite are the latter, because they make so much progress in any given lesson.

After clocking in, I trudge down one flight of stairs (much quicker than going to the elevator banks and waiting for one to arrive at the 15th of 20 floors), then use my ID badge to buzz a door on the one of the "teaching floors", aka 13th, 14th, and 16th. Out of the five or so months I've been an employee, I've been on 16 one time (for overtime) and 13 twice but both times on normal workdays. So in other words, my "home floor" is the 14th, and I almost always go somewhere on that floor. I check the monitor display on the 15th to see what booth number I'll be assigned after clocking in, which additionally shows what type of lesson I will be teaching, and then head to said cubicle. (Note: cubicle and booth are used interchangeably.) At that point, I log into a computer running Windows XP, but which looks nothing like the computer you're undoubtedly reading this from due to in-house software taking control of the operating system.

So after logging onto my schedule, I can take a closer gander at the various lessons assigned to me (generally 8 lessons with a one-period break for lunch, although I have two "half days" consisting of 5 lessons and no break), as well as the booth numbers assigned to me for said lessons. The reason for switching booths is that different booths are capable of connecting to different parts of Japan, so on a bad day it can get frusteratingly common to get up and move all of one booth over.

After logging on, I put up my "segueway" which is a picture welcoming the students to the online lesson, and showing my name and picture. (My picture is horrid, and I regret that I can't somehow change it for a more flattering one... my only solace is that the resolution on our "ginganet" machines is absolute mud, so they can't really see what I look like regardless.) I often choose the soundfile "ocean shore", consisting of waves and birds, to play in the background as the students (who often log in early) wait for the lesson to start, as I find it relaxing and pleasant to hear.

Meanwhile I am browsing my student records, in regards to their past lesson performance (including any weaknesses or strengths I can tailor the lesson towards) as well as personal information, such as anything I should avoid (family deaths, etc) or that I should direct the lesson towards (if they are a doctor and our lesson is about "visiting the doctor"). Occassionaly, my fellow Nova instructors (who range from outstanding people to the dregs of society) will leave terribly disparaging comments about the students in the "information" file, which doesn't record who makes changes to it. I tend to remove anything particularly appalling, but deleting the comments does nothing for my opinion on humanity.

As the time for the lesson arrives, bells will chime both in the room and over our headphones, and the lesson begins. It follows a carefully formatted structure which I completely ignore unless I'm being observed (we get two observations a year after we're off probation; 6 month evaluation and contract renewal observation), and after forty minutes, say goodbye and move on to the next lesson.

At the end of my shift, it is not uncommon for me to meet my fellow Nova employees for a beer or two at the local watering hole, a very trendy and relatively cheap bar called "Spats" located all of a five minute walk from work. Then my twenty-five minute bike ride home, and four or so hours of gaming before I sleep, rinse and repeat. (We get 10 minute breaks between each lesson.)

My half days start at 6:40, my normal days start at 3:10, and both end at 10:40, all in the PM. I work a half day on Monday, have Tuesday and Wednesday off, work a full day on Thursday, half day on Friday, and two full days on Saturday and Sunday. I get paid far too much for what I do, but at the same time understand how they'd have to pay us this much to live in Japan for any amount of time, given how freakin' expensive this place can get.

Till next time, "Oyasumi Nasai!"

Japan's internet services aren't exactly up to par...

In Japan, after you sign up with a company and request the internet, it takes an average of six weeks to finally *get* said internet installed at your house.

Very frusterating.

So anyways, Japan has this reputation for being a place of high technology. And coming from my American perspective, when I first got here I felt that such a reputation was severely undeserved. Many of the public bathrooms are quite literally holes in the ground, no toilet to sit on; you just sort of have to squat above the hole. A cultural difference, sure, but it makes a sound argument against high technology if you ignore the cultural influences. And just about nowhere accepts my debit card; Japan's firmly entrenched as a cash-based economy.

But the thing is, Japan truly does have some amazing technologies... they're just not flashy like flying cars or giant robots or what-have-you. But at the same time, I wonder why the heck doesn't America have this stuff? For example: how often have you gone to open up a carbonated beverage, and it fizzs up and over the bottle, and you desperately make a mad dive for the sink or trashcan and make a huge mess, or barely avoid doing so?

In Japan, and don't ask me how, they have the compression explode with a loud popping noise, and all that built up gas quickly leaves the bottle as soon as you open it... leaving your beverage completely untouched. But it's not flat, so don't get confused; it's still fizzy! Fizzy but won't explode! This is the type of technology America should have stolen by now. I've contacted
various US government branches and am waiting to here back on getting a part-time job as a spy of sorts.

Also, the toilets... well, let's just say Japan is a land of stark contrasts. We go from literally "hole in the ground that you squat over" to "super high tech throne toilet". The thrones at my workplace have *everything*!! That French thing that shoots water at your posterior, a "noise maker" on the female toilets so that the noise of peeing doesn't bother other ladies, (that one I'm taking a friend's word on, still not quite sure if that isn't some sort of practical joke at my expense...), heated seat to sit on, and so on and so forth! I mean it is ridiculous! Stuff like that is crazy, and why Japan has such a good reputation for technology.

During my lack-of-internet hiatus, I went to Vietnam, and this experience made me realize something profound about Japan that I definately do not like; in both countries, you definately have a very different physical appearance if you're non-Asian, and stand out very much in crowds. People often stare at foreigners, both in Vietnam and in Japan... but in Japan, when you notice someone staring at you and you look in their direction, they immediately shift their gaze away, and in no subtle manner. They aren't concerned that you saw them rudely staring at you so much as they want to avoid making eye-contact at all costs. As soon as you look away their stare returns, much like the Eye of Sauron's gaze, burning through your patience and "cultural differences" good will. In Vietnam, on the other hand, I would notice people staring at me and when I turned to look back, they would make eye contact, smile, and even wave! It was so refreshing, and has given me some perspective on Japanese society.

All in all, I am still having a wonderful time in Japan and really enjoying myself, but it can certainly be an alienating experience to be a Gaijin in Japan. I would implore anyone reading this to consider how hard it is to be a foreigner, and be a bit more lenient or friendly the next time (first time?) you come across an obvious foreigner in your own country. Maybe even buy them a beer or some nachos? I think that would be a nice gesture, myself. :D