I speak words sometimes

One of the light fellowship prompts of the week: “With each new language one gains a new personality”. To a large extent, that's been true for me. In general, I'm much more reserved in Japanese than I am in English, but some of those mannerisms have started to carry over into my English personality as well. There's the slightest bit of a head bow anytime I say thanks, and I continuously respond with a little nasal “uhn” to demonstrate that I'm listening to what the other person is saying.

There's a lot of little things- like how its better to apologize rather than say thanks when receiving a gift you didn't expect—if you say thanks, that implies you were expecting it, and that's just conceited. I used to think these kinds of examples were shameful and continually negated the self, but now that I've become more comfortable with their usage I can appreciate how it maintains a pleasant social environment. It's like the gleeful statement of “Let's put all our hearts into expressing our remorse!” in this parody of Japanese methods of apologizing. You might need a little more familiarity with Japanese “NATIONAL CHARACTER” (imagine me making big air quotes when I say that) to appreciate how brilliantly the video parodies it, but aside from the polite way of rephrasing any direction into a cheerful invitation, the video shows the Japanese linguistic expectation that places consideration on the other. And maybe a little bit of that style has infiltrated my English brain too.

Partially for adapting to these notions of proper behavior and partially for linguistic limitations, I've been uncharacteristically taciturn this summer. I've even been told I've gotten more reticent in English, which is something I'm not thrilled about and will probably be working to undo once I return to the states.

That's not to say I totally suppress myself in Japanese anymore, which I definitely used to do under the notions of “this is Japan and therefore I must aspire to the ideal of what the Japanese want me to do”. I have some jokes, and some humor, just a much smaller scale of jokes that I recycle with more frequency—I'm particularly fond of the chestnut and squirrel joke, and my own personal invention “riding the bus”. (For any students of Japanese reading this: say “chestnut and squirrel”, word-for-word, in Japanese. If you need help, chestnut isクリ. squirrel is リス、 Say it in front of other people if you can. Keep on saying it until you figure it out. I take no responsibility for the end results.) But in fun social settings, as I've advanced in my language proficiency I've become increasingly sociable and outgoing with meeting new people.

I've digressed, but I think the point of this is that I feel like I've started to appreciate the words that remain unsaid, and appreciate the value of silence a little more. In visiting the Nagasaki bomb memorials, I found myself increasingly irritated with a traveling buddy's questions of “ooh what's this word mean?” and requests for group photos. Both of those are expected and more or less good things for studying abroad, but in that context I couldn't help but feel a little more quiet contemplation would be in order.