I’m into my third week of teaching English classes at my Japanese high-school, and so first impressions are beginning to solidify into actual opinions. Here are a few:

Japanese students are painfully shy. This has its advantages, as they don’t need to be ruled with an iron fist, as many of my secondary school classes were, but it also has its disadvantages. Getting students to contribute to a class is like pulling teeth. From a stone.

Japanese high-school girls are not the playful sex kittens that they are so often portrayed as. Nor, as it turns out, are they proficient in medieval weaponry (a la Kill Bill), hand to hand combat (a la Battle Royale), and nor do they sell their used undies from vending machines (a la every article you’ve read about Japanese school girls/vending machines/Japan). However, they do, on occasion, like to play table tennis and softball.

Japanese high-school boys are like girls. They congregate in groups, giggle and blush. They boast ridiculously styled hair, designer belts and man-bags, and wouldn’t say boo to a ghost.

On a final, non-school related note:

Japanese banks are like Irish banks. OK, their ATMs close (yes, they close) at 6pm, and they seem to have ten staff milling about their branches for every customer, but in many ways, they’re the same.

I’m currently waiting for AIB to sort out my loan restructuring, which was applied for, signed for and approved by everybody a good 2 months ago. I’m also waiting, and have been for the last week, for my Japanese bank to send me out a new ATM card because they spelt my name wrong. If I’m lucky, I may receive it by next Monday. Which would be nice, because they’ve frozen my account until I do receive it, and with Pay Day being last Friday, I am none too happy. I don’t mind being ‘Breidan’ if they’ll let me use my own fucking bank account.