First Japanese Teacher

I can’t even count to twelve in Japanese. Things have settled down after these first two weeks of being kept busy. My group of friends (Ash [South Africa], H. [Finland], T. [Ireland]) had time to find a teacher. A mad woman – blind as a drunk man’s key, but won’t wear her glasses. The first fifteen minutes of class is her attempting to see what’s written on the textbook page by rubbing it in her eyes. And she doesn’t know a word of English, so that’s another fifteen minutes looking up what we say in her dogeared dictionary. Meanwhile, I’m shooting poison darts at her because I feel she know exactly what she doing! Time wasting!

A Jamaican here tells me he got a good teacher and I’m hoping to organise that today. I’ve also discovered smartfm.com with free Japanese classes. [The domain name is, at the date of this post, for sale]. I’d like to learn the language to talk to a Japanese person who isn’t only buzzing around to improve their English. Everything’s been properly setup for us except Japanese lessons – the ones with the retired women, who behave and look like methheads, will not do. I had to leave them out.

Our blind Japanese teacher was so happy she got paid (suggesting she doesn’t usually make it that far) she almost loss her life three times: once getting in Ash’s way while Ash was swerving to bring her car alongside the carpark pay booth (like she ain’ know Ash from South Africa); then again, directing traffic (it was pouring, we couldn’t see a thing and Madisha appeared in the road behind, calling us to reverse with hand signals); and, finally, when she crossed in front of the car (Ash had to slam the brakes!) to tell us next lesson we could park where we wouldn’t have to pay: “Bank no money!” she said. I thought she was saying she had no money in the bank!! “Look, drive an’ go long, hear!” I told Ash.

#whynottolearnJapanese