John Brenchley
Tamayu, Shimane, 1997-1999
In the late '90s, when the JET Program was still young enough to feel like a glorified cultural experiment, I was one of the lucky guinea pigs. Fresh off the plane in 1997, I barely had time to marvel at Tokyo’s neon lights before being whisked away to Matsue City for a two-week crash Japanese course and a whirlwind of new faces, wide-eyed JET newbies like me, plus a few battle-hardened Sempai veterans who took pity on us and built links that still last to this day.
Then on to Tamayu, my new home: a postcard-perfect town of 5,000 people, where the hot springs steamed, the lake sparkled, and, as I soon discovered, small children viewed me as a cryptid. On Day one, my Board of Education minder (a man whose English skills were *mysteriously* confined to paper) escorted me to the local supermarket. Cue a pint-sized local boy sprinting down the aisle like he’d seen Godzilla, shrieking “Gaijin da! Gaijin da!” while my poor minder scribbled frantic notes: “Your sempai will explain later.
But oh, the freedom of those early JET days! Before rigid lesson plans and PowerPoints, we were out here inventing traditions. Case in point: a Traveling British Pantomime, a ragtag troupe of ALTs and CIRs terrorising Shimane’s school children with men dressed as women, women as men and over-the-top wolf costumes and frantic shouts of “IT’S BEHIND YOU!” (Explaining pantomime to baffled Japanese kids was like teaching quantum physics to goldfish, but by the second viewing of the wolf, they were shouting it out louder than we could have imagined.
Then there was the time I orchestrated a hot spring town cultural exchange, because nothing says “diplomacy” like gifting Matlock Bath’s mayor a vial of Tamayu’s finest hot spring water. The pièce de résistance? My parents hosting 20 Japanese guests for a full British Christmas dinner in July. Nothing bonds people like serving roast turkey and gravy in a heatwave!
Looking back, it was all gloriously absurd, a time when we were making it up as we went along, one pantomime, terrified child, and questionable festive meal at a time. And honestly? I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Japan gave me two lifelong gifts: a love of cultural exchange and the confidence to say ""YES"" to any opportunity. As an ALT in rural Shimane, I learned that beneath language barriers and quirks, we all share the same hopes, especially for our children. That lesson stuck.
Post-JET, I’ve lived, worked, and travelled across 50+ countries, from negotiating with Saudi CEOs to launching pan-European restructuring strategies. Every step reinforced what JET taught me: people are more alike than we think, curiosity bridges divides, and strange things happen unexpectedly!
Why JET Alumni Thrive:
• Resilience: If you can survive a roomful of Japanese kids grilling you about your hair colour or endless meetings with the Monbu-shō as AJET Vice Chair, a sceptical CEO is a breeze!
• Adaptability: JET’s ""figure it out"" ethos prepped me to pivot from teaching to turning around businesses, embracing chaos as opportunity.
• Global Mindset: My Tamayu hot spring exchange later inspired corporate cultural bridges, like linking Matlock Bath and Shimane.
To Current JETs: Lean into the awkward moments. It’s training for future boardrooms.
To Japan: Thank you for showing me that trust and laughter transcend borders, a truth that’s guided my career, from multi-million dollar deals to mentoring teams worldwide.
Are you a JET alum with a story to share? Get in touch to be featured in an upcoming Senpai Spotlight.
