During my lengthy stay in Japan as a language instructor, there were a number of memorable occasions where students would opt for private English lessons instead of psychiatric counseling. I recall a few clients who were suffering from legitimate forms of trauma or depression, while others had nervous breakdowns right in the middle of class. Still others, by all accounts, were just plain weird.
I remember one 30-year-old woman who always came to class overly-dressed, wearing an uncertain smile, and looking strangely weary, as if she spent the rest of her day drowning in tears. I considered her just another basket case.
Eventually, her and I got around to the topic of what exactly was eating her, and the jumpy young woman with the colorful chiffon dress shared an interesting story. As it turned out, she had recently been engaged to an American man from New York City. They dated for three years and were madly in love, she said.
When it came time for the wedding ceremony, she took a flight from Osaka and arrived at La Guardia Airport with her family, yet her fiancé was not there to greet them as planned. They waited and waited for hours, but he never showed up.
They later learned that the poor guy was killed in a traffic incident in route
to the airport. To help get her mind off of the tragic event, she returned to Japan and started taking private English lessons, she said. She felt the diversion might help her to better deal with the grief. She thanked me for the laughter I gave her every week.
to the airport. To help get her mind off of the tragic event, she returned to Japan and started taking private English lessons, she said. She felt the diversion might help her to better deal with the grief. She thanked me for the laughter I gave her every week.
After hearing her tragic story, I learned to be a little more compassionate about the personal problems of my troubled clients.
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