TOKYO - THE Jonan Vocational Skills Development Centre, located on the fringe of one of Tokyo's light industrial districts, would be the envy of most training institutions, public or private.
It is bright, spacious and better equipped than most private schools, with a laptop provided for every student.
The centre is also spotlessly clean, 'thanks to the daily efforts of our students in the cleaning supervisors course', said Jonan official Hidetoshi Aida.
Jonan is a school catering mostly to the unemployed.
There are 15 schools like it throughout Tokyo and many more across Japan, as their establishment is required by law.
The centres are run partly from government funds and partly from money channelled from a universal employment insurance programme to which all Japanese salaried workers have to subscribe.
Out-of-work Japanese receive unemployment benefits for a minimum of three months, often more, after they lose their jobs.
Those unable to secure another job within six months can go to government employment offices - which are referred to by their nickname 'Hallo Work' - and ask to learn a more marketable skill.
'Hallo Work divides cases into those with immediate employment prospects and those that need skills training,' explained Mr Yoshimasa Yonezawa, a senior labour official with the Tokyo metropolitan government.
Approved applicants can enrol in centres like Jonan. Short-term courses are free while those lasting one year or more charge 115,200 yen (S$1,400) annually, the same amount that it costs to enrol in a public high school.
While enrolled, students who qualify for unemployment benefits continue to receive an allowance of up to 140,000 yen a month, which is enough to live on.
But the training centres' nine-to-five regime is not for everyone.
'Some trainees lack the discipline and drop out,' said Jonan's Mr Aida.
Because the centres only conduct courses in skills which are in demand, some 80 per cent of their graduates are able to find jobs.
The remaining 20 per cent fail to do so because employers find them too old, or they are unable to commute to work from their homes, among other reasons.
Attitudes towards jobs have changed in recent years.
Information technology-related courses used to be the hot favourite at Jonan.
'But in the past few years, young people have come to realise that IT jobs mean long hours and poor pay. So now the class is not full,' said Mr Aida.
Jonan's furniture-making and shoe-making courses are, however, among the most popular these days.
According to Mr Aida, rather than being just a cog in a wheel, young Japanese these days aspire to jobs where they can produce tangible products with their hands and be recognised for their individual efforts.
Now that the Japanese economy is slowly recovering, Jonan and other training centres are finding it hard to keep their classes full. For courses starting in April, only 245 out of 315 places at Jonan were taken.
Of its students, about 70 per cent have worked before. The remainder are high school graduates undergoing training for their first jobs.
Surprisingly, Jonan has also been getting college graduates lately.
'They come here straight after graduation when they discover they have no marketable skills,' said Mr Aida.
When Japan's jobless population reached a peak a few years ago, government skills training centres could not meet demand.
Another programme was set up to allow the unemployed to take short-term courses, lasting two to four months, at approved private schools in subjects such as computers or bookkeeping.
Mr Yonezawa admits that the government's spending on retraining the unemployed is generous.
'But it is better to have people back at work than not working. When they are employed, they pay taxes and also contribute to the social security system,' he said.
The DIY way to better prospects
AFTER working part-time for two years in odd jobs, high-school graduate Daisuke Sato, 26, toiled for five years in a cleaning company before he decided that enough was enough.
He had entered the company as a contract worker, which means he gets no bonus payments, unlike regular employees.
When the company wanted to make him a supervisor late last year, he thought they would take him on as a regular employee.
But he remained on contract.
"The company refused to make me a regular employee, which means absolutely no bonus payments for me. So I quit," he said.
He left the company last February.
The moment he stopped working, Mr Sato applied for a course in DIY (do-it-yourself) skills at the Jonan Vocational Skills Development Centre that will qualify him to become a customer adviser at a DIY store.
"I came to Jonan because I heard about the school from a friend who graduated from the course," he said.
Asked what Mr Sato thought about the training, he said: "I had expected it to be a pleasant course because I like making things."
Tests for DIY advisers take place every summer. They include an interview as the ability to communicate with customers is crucial for the job. "Besides teaching DIY skills, we also teach students how to interact with customers," says instructor Toshio Ashizawa.
The DIY advisers course was originally started for retirees and older workers.
But because DIY shops prefer to employ younger people, the trainees at Jonan are now mostly in their 20s and 30s.
Women are also making inroads into this previously all-male sector.
