Certifiable

Frantic movement and the sounds of posters being ripped off walls could be heard from Alisa's classroom. Every now and then a muttered curse seeped out of the room under the closed door.

Linda's voice could be heard trying to soothe Alisa but it wasn't working. Finally, the sound of a trash can being mightily kicked across the room echoed through the school. Miki, the manager du jour, peaked around the corner from her office, phone pressed to her ear. The classroom door flew open and Alisa stormed out.

"To hell with Geos! To hell with them!" she shouted, a wild look in her eyes.

She spun about and stormed out of the school leaving a flurry of ripped posters in her wake.

Another satisfied Geos employee. I looked at Linda and asked, "Which one of us is going to pick up most of the classes she dumped?"
"I hope they divide them equally." Linda replied.
"They can't give us all her classes, it's physically impossible."
"We'll just have to see about that."

"Chris? Linda? Can you come here please. I have a phone call for you." Miki said from the office.
Me and Linda exchanged looks.

"Hello?" I asked uncertainly. "Chris? Sid here, I need to talk to you guys down there." It was Sid Drygass, the head office message relay boy.

"Uh, yeah, OK. Sid, did you have a chance to read my paper about the benefits of being a qualified TOEIC or TOEFL instructor? Maybe I could get a TEFL certificate? Wouldn't that look good for Geos? Wouldn't word of mouth get us more students? You know, having certified instructors and everything? What do you think?"
"Um, yeah, save the world, find a cure for cancer, feed the starving, it's all just great. Listen, just heard about Alisa flipping out. Don't worry about it, we're sending a sub down there to pick up the pieces and put it all together again."
"Oh, OK, great, whatever."
"Listen Chris, I want you to do yourself a favour. Study this guy. Learn from him. His methods are out there but he's the future of Geos. Watch him. His name is Guppy. Steve Guppy."
"Uhhh...yeah, sure, Sid, I'll learn." We said good bye and hung up.

"What did he have to say?" asked Linda.
"They're sending down a company Nazi. He'll probably make some stupid report about us to head office. Pray to God they find another full time teacher quick so we can get this guy outta here ASAP. Oh, and his name is Guppy."
"Guppy?! I know him, I trained with him in Seattle. He's...well, he's..."
"What? 'out there'? Sid said so."
"Yeah. Out there is a good way to put it. You'll see."
"I'm supposed to study him and be like him."
"Ba-HA! Good luck."
"OK, well this'll be fun."

Next day I was teaching a group of high school kids.
"What did you do last weekend?"
"I went to shopping." answered one.
I made an inquisitive face and repeated, "'I went to shopping'?" counting the words out on my fingers so everyone could see.
"Yes. I went to shopping."
I got a piece of scrap paper, put it in the middle of the table so everyone could see and wrote: "I went to Nagano.
I went skiing." Under that I wrote: "I went to Sogo. I ______ ________."
"Went shopping."
"That's it," I said, quite confident that I would never hear that mistake ever again in my life in Japan. As I continued my inquiries around the table a new voice could be heard in the lobby.

"Guess who?!"

"Guppy-san!" "That's my name, don't wear it out!" he shouted in a booming voice followed by shrieks of laughter.

"Oh, Christ, what have they sent us now?" I wondered.

I went out after class and met him. He squeezed my hand extra hard when we shook hands.
"And this little fella must be Chris. Yes yes yes you are, you have to be Chris. How are we, Chris? Hmmmmm?" he said as if addressing a puppy.
"Just swell, uncle Steve." I said with mock glee. "Swell!"

"Isn't this great? We're all so happy!" said Miki.

Guppy dropped his baggage in the lobby and looked about. "Nice place. I'll take it!" he shrieked with laughter. "Where's my classroom and what time does my first class begin?"
"Right there and right now." I said.
"OK, I just need a few essentials." he said as he started digging through his stuff.

Out of the bags he brought two rubber squeaky hammers, and what looked like a little cassette player.

"I'm ready! I'm ready! I can do anything with these! I'm a jester! I'm a fool! The king will listen to me! Let's English! Let's English with me!" he said as he scurried into the classroom.
"What the hell?" I asked no one in particular.

My classroom was right next to his so it was pretty much impossible to ignore what I heard coming from his room.

"Hello everybody! Hello! Hello! Hello! I am Steve Guppy and I'll be the pilot of your flight into English. We'll be cruising at a height of your imagination's limit at light speed! The stewardesses will be serving light snacks of verbs and pronouns in a moment. Our in flight movie will be "I, Fluency," the stirring tale of one young Japanese girl's journey to perfect English fluency!"

I started coughing violently in my room. What a combination: a spaz clown pretending to be a pilot and a class of stone-faced business men. Did they understand anything he was saying?

Just then a burst of applause broke out in Guppy's room. The little cassette player he had was loaded with sounds and songs. Whenever he said something stunning or grand: applause. Something deep? Ooohs and ahhs. Something "wacky?" A Woody Woodpecker laugh. If a student made a mistake, he played a "boing!" sound and accompanied it with a whack to the head of the student with one of the rubber hammers. Whenever he assigned some kind of deskwork, or the students had to work in pairs, he played the Woody Woodpecker Show theme again and again and again...

Sweet Jesus! What is that asshole doing in there? I'm sure everyone in the school was listening, too. Just as suddenly as he started his show, Guppy brought it down.

"OK, OK, everybody...simmer down...pipe down..."
You pipe down, Steve! Man alive! What are you on?!

"Look, we've been having a lot of fun but it's time to get serious" Guppy said to a deathly silent room.

"I want you all to look inside yourselves and remember why you decided to study English...Then I want you to channel that raw emotion, that drive, that spirit, that flame into...poetry."

I could just imagine the looks on the faces of the four business men who stared at him in silence: blank.

"Gentlemen, today we emote." he said very dramatically. Switching over to a lyrical voice, he continued, "Please choose one strip of paper upon which you will be sure to find especially prepared for you one topic of frivolity and charm which will remind you of why you decided to study English with me and your new family here at the super duper chocolate covered banana split wonderful jelly roll school called Geos Odawara!"

He hit the applause button.

Yukio, one of the business men spoke up, "My ticket says 'Hot Dog'."
"Great! Yukio, you are indeed one lucky man! You get to write a poem about hot dogs! Where will you begin?!" Guppy exclaimed.
"I don't like hot dogs."
"Great beginning! Go for it! Go go go go ! A-hahahahahahahahahaha!"
"No, Guppy san, I mean, I don't like hot dogs. I don't like writing poetry. I don't like writing poetry about hot dogs," Yukio said persistently.
"Well today that all changes! You're going to learn to love it!" Guppy hit the "Boing!" sound then whapped Yukio over the head with a rubber hammer getting a squeak from both.
"Now I'm going to give you guys 10 minutes to compose a free style poem about the subjects you chose. Get cracking! HAHAHAHAHA!" And with that, Guppy left the class.

In the lobby you could hear Guppy ask, "So, Miki, do you have a boyfriend?"

Two days later, the phone rang in the office at about 11:00 in the morning. Miki answered it and then called for me. It was Sid on the phone.

"So, are you learning anything?" Sid asked.
"Not really. The guy is a jackass." I answered.
"What?!"
"There has been a steady stream of students complaining to the manager about Guppy's classes. One of the biggest beefs they have against him is that he speaks way too fast and he won't clarify what he says."
"TS, man, TS. (tough shit) He's the man. If little Odawara can't handle it, well, something is awfully rotten down there."
"Uh, Sid? Have you given any thought to what I said?"
"You mean about the courses and the qualifications and whatnot?"
"Yes."
"Yeah I thought about it. Then I decided not to take it to another level."
"Why not?"
"Chris, don't embarrass yourself. This is eikaiwa, not education. Put on a good show and everything will be fine."
"Sid, I can put on a good show. I just wish I could impart a little more substance."
"Whoa! Hold it right there! You've got a job, right?"
"Yes..."
"You want to keep it, right?"
"I guess so..."
"Then, my friend, do not rock the boat. Just do the job. ABC. It's as easy as that. ABC."
"ABC?"
"Always Be Conversing. It's our new motto. Pretty snappy, huh? ABC. The Japanese will love it."
"Sid?"
"Yeah?"
"Whatever happened to dignity?"
"Dunno."
"Why must I hit someone with a rubber hammer to be a star player?"
"They like it."
"They do?"
"Yes. Our marketing tests have proven it."

Right then I vowed I would resist this trend towards the Bozo-ifacation of eikaiwa. If that meant that I go underground with my "dignity in the classroom for all" movement, so be it. I would strike out at the bastards one day, however. I would need a medium to spread my message. I would need a means to communicate. Al Gore was working on it.

Previously unpublished, rescued from a trash bin and posted with the permission of the author:

Poem About A Hot Dog
By Yukio.
Poem about a hot dog.
There it is
A hot dog
I did not order you
I did not want you
You were thrust upon me
You give great intestinal discomfort
Good bye hot dog
Please go away.

Indeed, Yukio, indeed. There was an unwanted hot dog there, and we all suffered the intestinal discomfort.