MODERATELY SERIOUS (DUN DUN DUH!)
The Light Fellowship asked if I've encountered any cultural misunderstandings with my hosts, but I really can't think of any I've had. If anything, I feel like the the Light program over-prepares us for culture shock. For instance, nowhere is it mentioned that Sapporo and the surrounding cities are the least "formal" in all of Japan for the levels of politeness expected in spoken language. My host family barely ever uses particles, and I started off constructing elaborate ladders of expression that they understood and replied to before I'm halfway through the ritualistic endings. My friend Yiwen (PhD candidate in history at Stanford) has ranted at length about her beef with Asian Exclusivism, the idea that Japan/China/East Asia in general are so culturally removed from anyone else that we can't understand them. The fundamental motives I see driving my homemaker host-home revolve a deep love for her three kids, despite the difficulty of her oldest son being severely mentally handicapped and her husband working till late each night. That drive is not at all alien, even if some of the niceties of the gift giving culture and social hierarchy are.
But all the understanding I have comes with limitations. Even though my family's been very friendly and easygoing with me, and I've accomplished a lot (today's win came from describing my allergy-induced dry eyes to the pharmacist to order the right kind of eye drops, when I've heard Japanese drugstores can be notoriously difficult) I'm still intellectually a child in this culture. I can ride the train by myself, or stay out late, or order a glass of sake, but none of these relate to the level of expression I can manage. I'm getting increasingly more competent but that just reveals how much more I can't yet do... even asking for help with the eye drops was accompanied by the confession "I can't read any of this". I suppose the conversations I've most enjoyed in English with close friends are about their beliefs and philosophies, incredibly nuanced pieces of thought and debate that I can't even begin to describe through my Japanese.
This is not to say I can't have an adult conversation. Yesterday I described what I had once discussed with Young, (freshmen year roommate who did the HIF program last summer), his idea that having everyone raised in a nigh-identical culture (as is the case in minority-less Japan) may be superior to what we usually laud as the American melting pot. But the range of such conversations I can handle is determined by whatever vocabulary sets I can apply (移民族国 FTW!), and these are only the vocabulary sets I've already been spoon-fed by a sensei. Independent Elliot resents.
Which brings me to the classes, which I haven't yet discussed via the blogosphere. I'm in Intermediate 2B, which isn't bad (most of the Yalies who finished 2nd year are here too) but the grammar doesn't challenge me. I've been at this whole "learning a language thing" for 5 years now (granted, 3 years of Lewis and Clark High School language equated to only one semester of Yale study) and it kills me that there are people who've done it for one year who are in the same place. (Also granted, they're native Chinese so they can read anything in Japanese, and I'm better at speaking in class, but still). The topics of the dialogues (ordering food at a restaurant and giving gifts) are the same kind I've seen since my first semester of Japanese study. And I feel like much of the program is on rails, holding my hand through everything (quite literally in the pottery class, where the instructor mumbled quietly as he puppet my hands for me on the wheel). My bad boy resistance to this comes in the form of writing totally kick-ass essays on all the homework assignments, with less obvious responses and longer explanations full of grammar we're not supposed to know yet. I'll keep on writing these awesome essays until the senseis feel bad about themselves. HA!! THAT'll show 'em.
I attract attention wherever I go. It's not exactly a surprise considering how blatantly foreign I look (not that many Japanese stand at 188 cm and reek of Scandinavian heritage) but its a lot. Sometimes its fun, like getting swarmed by adorable children who want to love me, and sometimes its less so, like children who stop dead in the middle of the street when they see me.
I suppose my very existence in Japan comes with misunderstanding. The notion that I can speak at all is inevitably a surprise. I've been told "Harro" by any number of people (not even an exaggeration- even though that's how Americans tend to mock the Japanese accent when being less than PC, that's the only way I've heard them say "hello") and they gasp when I respond with a "konnichiwa". Doing research on the mountain for my independent study today, I said "konnichiwa" and "sumimasen" as I passed a guy on the narrow path- he gave me a funny look, but then as I was leaving he said something else at me not expecting I would respond- but I did, and we got into a conversation about the environmental research I'm trying to pull off.
As a whole, this rant is not to say my experience here is not awesome- because it is. It's just that learning is hard. Who'da thunk it?
And now a new section...
CONVERSATIONS I WASN'T SUPPOSED TO UNDERSTAND (BUT I DID)
The first such conversation came when I commented on the Disney Princess placemat at dinner my host sister had. I mentioned that Hillary's favorite princess was Ariel, and then adorable baby sister Nozomi launched into a long tirade about clam-shell bras and nipples. I can still barely comprehend my sisters because they talk super fast in adorably high-pitched voices, but the gestures and the use of おっぱい (nipple!) was unmistakable.
Yesterday in the department store food court, I leaned back in my chair and stretched, which prompted my host mom to karate chop my exposed belly. When host sister Hikari tried to follow suit, host mom explained that when you do that you're only supposed to hit the belly and not the penis. I thanked her for the sage advice.
Also, the form of punishment that my host mother uses on the kids is a chucky doll. The kids have seen many horror movies like Child's Play, and are convinced that Chucky lives in America, so they ask me about him everyday. When they're bad, the mother says that Chucky is coming to play or brings out the doll (cue the girls screaming and hiding all over the house) and when she feels the kids are satisfactorily cowed she reminds them that Chucky only lives in America.
So as a result, when most adorable nine year olds draw you a picture, it's something cute like faeries or animals. My host sisters instead draw me pictures of demented man-doll Chucky savagely disemboweling a naked lady.
A note host mom left out for the kids- the bottom says "If you don't listen to what I've said, I'll call Chucky"This has gotten pretty long, so in short,
COOL THINGS THOSE WACKY JAPANESE HAVE CREATED:
~Japan has invented 卵の販売機 (vending machines that dispense eggs by the dozen)
~self-moving carwashes (as in, the drive-through kind that takes a block in the US takes two small car-lengths. You park and the machine tunnel 洗車 moves back and forth over the car)
~self made packets of ソフト・アイス (where you place a packet of flavor into a compressy machine and it dispenses soft serve ice cream out perfectly into a cup lined with corn flakes).
For your entertainment, some wonderful Engrish from the train. (Click to zoom in).Please note the thief and the owl to denote "sneak".
5 comments:
"If anything, I feel like the the Light program over-prepares us for culture shock."
Interesting. I'll say that you probably need more time in Japan for some of these items to stand out to you. It also sounds like you have a great mindset, which is serving you well. Keep us posted.
Also, the Chucky thing is hilarious! =)
Haha, don't worry, I'm well aware of how much that sounds like it could yet be famous last words. That's just where I am right now. :)
Note: The words bad boy and pottery class appear in adjacent sentences in your post. The scene from Ghost popped into my mind and yes, you were Demi Moore.
As someone who took a Cantonese course full of Chinese-speaking students (I was the only non-Asian in the class), and then subsequently traveled to China/Hong Kong, I find your tribulations very similar to mine. You, of course have had a lot more exposure to the language, while I had immersion within my future family. I feel for you, yet I bet you'll be thinking in Japanese very soon.
A wise person told me that once you can not only understand a joke in a foreign language, but tell one, you can understand the language. Of course conversations and writing are entirely different.
We are enjoying your escapades. Continue the great blog!
-Glynnis in Spokane
I think the overpreparation for culture shock is common not only to people studying Asian languages, but for anyone studying abroad. People are people the world over; we all have families. We eat, sleep, and yes, even poop — so there's a commonality there.
I know my school overstated the culture shock before I went to Germany (though, what was not stated was how anal they are about your language. They are pleased that you're learning their language, but they will correct you if you make mistakes in genders of articles or in conjugation of verb tenses; it's not personal, though).
I've been to Germany a couple times; it's not as foreign as Japan — they're still “Westerners” as it were — but European culture is different than America (obviously). It's still not as different as we seem to be told, though it is harder when the language is not your native one. The differences are in the little things: the food packaging, the door hardware, the outlets and lightswitches (I suppose height might not be such a little difference, but you get the idea).
And I totally understand the overwhelming inability to convey the complex ideas in the language. I've felt the same way; you can generalise the abstract concepts, but you don't know all the words and you can't get specific. It's stressful because you're afraid that you'll appear to be stupid because your language skills are not on the same level as a gradeschooler (especially traumatic for a linguist or writer), but it gets easier as you stay there longer.
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