By Nikki Wolin

Most people can fit into one of two categories: planners or improvisers. I’m sorry to say I have never been an improviser. So during training week when my leader asked what we were most excited for during the program, I had a list. I wanted to ride a bullet train, visit shrines in Kyoto, and have some high-quality sushi. However, the last coach in our group had a different approach.

“It’s always the random little things that end up being the most memorable,” she said. “It’s never the stuff you plan out. So my answer to the question of what I’m most excited for is, ‘I don’t know yet.’”

Here was a bona fide improviser! For the rest of the program, her words lingered in the back of my mind. Would the things that I tried to “cross off” be better than the ones I just walked into?

Now that the program is over, I do have to admit that none of the things I’d expected – sushi, shrines, or bullet trains – ended up being my favorite parts. The most I saw of Kyoto was Kyoto Station, my sushi experience was limited to 7-Eleven takeout, and I usually slept on the bullet trains (and some regular trains, too). However, all of these “disappointments” simply reflected even more fun but highly unanticipated activities. While I may not have seen Kyoto, I had a fantastic day in Okayama; although I rarely ate sushi, I enjoyed ramen, curry, and wagyu burgers with my team; and maybe the bullet train rides just paled in comparison to the destinations awaiting us on the other end.

After five long weeks, I finally had my answer: Immie was right.

The Camp

Both expected and unexpected events played out over the next five weeks, which involved one week of training and four weeks of teaching. During our first week in Tokyo, we visited Tokyo Rinkai Disaster Prevention Park (complete with an earthquake simulation) followed by three days of classroom-style training in Shinjuku. During this time we met with our teams and moved to either permanent or temporary housing depending on whether we were stationed in Tokyo. Regardless, coaches used their free time to explore sites such as the Imperial Palace, Ueno Park, and Akihabara, Japan’s anime capital.

On Monday of the following week, we moved to our first location. My team, which consisted of two leaders and nine coaches, traveled around the Kansai region in western Japan (an area that includes Kyoto and Osaka, as opposed to the eastern Kanto region containing Tokyo). We then further split in half for the second and third weeks of coaching. While my entire team taught in Osaka week one, my half went to Shiga and then Kurashiki while the other half stayed in Osaka and then traveled to Fukuchiyama. We reunited back in Osaka for week four just in time to welcome Typhoon Lan, whose scariest effect was probably just having us complete the program in four days instead of five.

Our weekly schedule involved teaching Tuesday to Saturday from 10 am to 5:30 pm. We had Sunday off (which we often used for day trips), then traveled to the next location on Monday to start the cycle anew. Classroom sizes ranged from a whopping 3:2 coach:student ratio our first week to a more typical 1:5 ratio. I personally found both advantages and disadvantages to co-coaching – more coaches resulted in less individual teaching time, but maximized one-on-one interaction with the students. In addition, if you got stuck you could always bounce ideas off of your fellow coach. On the other hand, teaching alone maximized your overall interaction with the students but minimized individual conversations. Additionally, support now had to come from the slightly-farther-away source of a leader.

After experiencing both a 3:2 and 1:5 ratio, I just have to say that no matter what the group size, you can always create a fun team experience. Breaks are the perfect time to get to know your students better by asking them to teach you something for a change (like whether “strawberry” ichigo is the same as Bleach protagonist Ichigo! “Is it because he has red hair?” I asked after a lightning flash of inspiration, only for my students to shake their heads sadly. Apparently they’re written with different kanji ).

I was pleasantly surprised by our housing during the program; of the seven accommodations I stayed in, five were single rooms. They ranged from the smallest being pods in a capsule hotel to the largest being private rooms in Come on Up share houses. Commute times varied accordingly, from a blissful two minutes in Kurashiki (where both the hotel and teaching venue were attached to a mall) to about forty-five minutes by train and bus.

Moving teaching venues and accommodations every week might sound stressful, but even after moving seven times in five weeks, I found I didn’t mind. It was exciting to pack up and ship out not knowing where the next train, bus, or bullet train would take you (or knowing, for the true planners out there. For the improvisers: Google Maps). It was exciting to go to a place that had no memories or associations and make new ones. And most importantly, it was exciting to know that no matter what, you would find the random little things that would make your experience special.

The Random Little Things…

1.     Conversations with students

I Coached for Global English Workshop 2022 (the shorter, online version of GEC during the pandemic) and Global English Camp 2023. After these two experiences, I can safely say that the conversations with the students were always the best but most unexpected parts of the program.

During the first day of GEW last year, one of my students mentioned that her favorite hobby was kendama, a Japanese skill game that involves catching a ball (tama) with a wooden stick (ken). It requires an extraordinary amount of concentration, hand-eye coordination, and most importantly, patience. Within minutes she was showing us every kendama trick in the book, and a few that were probably out of it, too.

The skills didn’t stop there – I’ve had students who can write perfect calligraphy, who know every TWICE dance by heart, and who can fold the tiniest paper cranes known to man. Their interests span everything from Detective Conan to flower arranging to professional racing, and they aspire to be everything from wildlife specialists to Disney executives to businessmen who drive Ferraris.

However, the one thing they all have in common is that they are passionate about what they do, as are they passionate about making the world a better, safer, more fun place to be. In short, you are always learning from your students! They have amazing things to say and amazing stories to tell. Just don’t be surprised if you hear something unexpected mixed in. (One of my students suddenly asked if Arizona, my home state, had buildings. Apparently his English teacher visited over the summer, but which part remains a mystery...)

2.     Interactions with other coaches

Speaking of bragging about your hometown (Arizona happily contains several buildings), coaches come from all over, so there’s a good chance you’ll be teamed up with someone from Canada, Spain, the UK, or South Africa. Besides learning from your students, sometimes the best thing you can do is learn from your fellow coaches. For example, who knew that “pants” in the UK means underwear, not trousers? Or that Brits are still mourning the loss of the £3 meal deal? Or that Canadian colleges have high acceptance rates but low retention rates?

However, that’s not to say that a bunch of young people from different countries will always succeed by pooling their collective knowledge. After visiting a summer festival, my friend and I accidentally spent two hours trying to get back to Osaka after accidentally taking a train halfway to Kyoto. Later, one of my teammates and I bought tickets for Okayama Castle, whose informational displays were (unknown to us) solely in Japanese. We proceeded to stop politely in front of each panel just to blend in, but the entire time we were wondering whether our illiteracy was written on our foreheads, or if we’d even be able to read it if it was.

However, when things happen in a foreign country full of people you’ll never meet again, you get over them. After Okayama Castle we visited the beautiful Okayama Koraku-en Garden, which made the experience well worth it. (The part we liked the most besides the amazing ponds, streams, and overall Studio Ghibli-esque atmosphere? There were no signs.)

Despite these unexpected setbacks, you might wander into some of the best experiences of your trip with fellow coaches. You might catch a midnight jazz show, or get lost in a huge shopping mall, or have an inimitable matcha latte. Regardless, they’ll be things that you would never find on your own, and which would be much less enjoyable if you didn’t have your fellow coaches or leaders along for the ride (even if it’s on the wrong train).

3.     Rediscovering Your Life Mission

Your Life Mission presentation is about how you see yourself contributing to the world. It’s meant to be delivered by a Coach in the first few days of the program to get their students thinking about their own Life Missions, which they present on the final day. As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve seen all kinds of Life Missions in my two years with Come on Out – most are career-based, with students wanting to become doctors or lawyers (or, yes, wildlife specialists or Disney executives or businessmen who drive Ferraris), but some remain more vague (like traveling around the world and learning new languages, for which a certain program called Come on Out – Japan may be helpful…).

However, I have a confession to make: my own Life Mission was a lie.

I didn’t lie about all of it – I was telling the truth when I said that I wanted to be an author and write books; I just wasn’t when I said I was sure about it. Sure, I liked to write, but did I really like to write as much as I said I did? Did I really have what it took to be an author? Was my writing good enough? As I made my PowerPoint on different types of creative writing, I was struck by imposter syndrome. It suddenly seemed not only childish to talk about being an author, but arrogant.

However, after delivering my Life Mission presentation four weeks in a row, I slowly started believing it. (You can only shout out, “I want to be an author!” so many times before you actually start convincing yourself.)

During the farewell retreat in Chiba, I was discussing the topic of Life Missions with a fellow coach when he said, “I could tell you were a little nervous about presenting, but once you got going I could see how passionate you are about writing. You really love it.”

I’d always thought the Life Mission presentations were for the students to get them thinking about university and beyond. I never really believed they could be for us, too. After all, we were the ones who were supposed to have everything figured out. We were the adults.

But after hearing those words, I realized that maybe it was important for everyone to have a Life Mission, regardless of how old you are or if you actually stick to it. Even if it’s not strictly true, it reminds you of what you love and why you love it. It reminds you of what got you excited about living in the first place.

Overall, what I learned from GEC is that it doesn’t matter if things don’t go exactly to plan. Plans fail, and maybe it’s better if they do. After all, it’s the random little things – talking to your students, talking to other coaches, and having an honest conversation with yourself – that end up being better than you could ever imagine.