Late Nite Diner Eikaiwa

Most Westerners who come to Japan end up teaching English. As a result, there is an industry of English schools, called eikaiwas, which promote English instruction as a service to the public and hire native speakers. You don't need any training or experience as this is provided, usually.

I have a pretty good gig as a corporate trainer which is in the higher end of the industry, the requirements are rather strict but I am compensated well for it. But I also don't mind checking out the competition and possibly picking up extra work for fun money.

After looking through the want ads, I came across a school that seemed really small, just starting out and didn't teach children. That was key because I didn't want to come to a side gig teaching babies from my real job in a suit. So, I fire off an email with a resume to the school, hoping for an opportunity to at least check them out.

The first warning should have been the lengthy delay in response time. I had followed up my email nearly a week after my submission and when a month went by, I figured they passed on me. Which is fine. But two months after I submitted my resume, I get a request to come for an interview! I shrugged my shoulders and fired off a request for a meeting time. Another month goes by.

The school, let's call them Late Nite Diner Eikaiwa, emails me again but its a short note, a name and a phone number, nothing else. By now, I have written them off but I see the number so I just ring it up for amusement. I end up speaking with a guy named Charlie. He says he's from Australia. They have a small operation and would I like to meet with him to explore the possibilities. I mention it had been a while since he emailed me and figured they had moved on. Hint #3 or 4: he isn't even listening to me, he's going on about what I should bring and how to get there.

I go. Yep, I have to see this. I really do. So I go. Once there, it turns out to be an office separated by cubicle partitions. I think this is a good set up for a school if all you are going to do is conversation practice but not for a real class. That's okay because it turns out that is just what it is. Students walk in for private one on one lessons for about 45 minutes and then they leave. But there is no way of knowing what the student abilities are, there is no testing! There is no way of knowing what material was covered in previous lessons, there are no student records! There is no way of knowing what the student needs are, there is no interview or asssessment!

There are zero teaching materials. All you get is: a small table, two chairs, a whiteboard, a dictionary and partitions on either side of you barely wide enough for you to slide sideways to your chair. The whole thing is a nightmare. I have decided there is no way I would teach part time there unless they offered me something really juicy.

So I am about five minutes early to my "interview." I introduce myself to the front office staff, make them laugh, and then a guy appears and he starts talking to me. I notice first off that he is Asian and clearly not a native English speaker. He later tells me he is a New Zealander but I figure he is Vietnamese or Cambodian but possibly an emigre to New Zealand. His name is Duc ("Duck") and he informs me in broken English that Charlie can't meet with me but instead he will interview me. He is the assistant manager of...the English school. I sigh and we sit down.

Duc has never interviewed anyone before. I give him a hard copy of my resume and he doesn't even look at it. The first question he asks is, "where are you from?" I point to the top of my resume where the second word after my name is: American. "Take your time reading this," I tell him. He looks up and down at it and then takes a long time looking at the photo on my resume (standard Japanese CVs require a picture as well as your nationality and blood type and other details). Why he needs to look at my picture when I am sitting in front of him, I'll never know.

Remember, I have observed that he hasn't given interviews before. His second question is, "may I tell you how much we can pay you?" Fine, I smile at him. It had better be a whole lot of fucking money. He smiles broadly and says, "nine hundred yen per hour but we can only pay part time."

The minimum hourly wage for this industry, for someone without experience, ground floor, yada yada, is 2000 yen, a little more in Osaka. I am paid two and half times this, not including selling bonuses, with a hefty schedule. I make bank. I don't really need a side gig. But what the guy in front of me is telling me is I am worth less than half what a...year long tourist...is expected to be paid. Duc can see I am not amused. He explains, "after few months, if we like performance, we pay you 1000 yen."

That's it. I'm out the door. Before I go, I ask Duc about the other teachers. Surely, no one, NO ONE, is working for $8 an hour here. I walk around the office and see three teachers, Charlie is one of them (also Southeast Asian?), a young woman with a heavy Russian accent and a Japanese. Duc is also a teacher, I am told. I ask if they have any native English speakers and Duc tells me that they are all native speakers.

I've had my fun, I got to see the true underbelly of the industry, the lowest it can possibly go, at the Late Nite Diner Eikaiwa. Greasy food and tepid coffee, a bored waitress with cigarette forgotten on her lips, and an endless parade of customers who just want to get in, eat and get the hell out. And get the hell out, I do.