I hate to be a Negative Nancy but please, Japan, and I can't stress it more...
ENOUGH WITH THE MAYO.
Mayonnaise is not an acceptable pasta sauce. It just isn't. It's just, just no. Stop.
On a better note, attempting to explain the history of the YMCA when your host father sings it at karaoke is a more difficult task than you think. Singing Lady Gaga at karaoke though will undoubtedly wow your Japanese family.
(Why didn't I start a tag for 'mayo' sooner? It seems to be the most recurring topic on here, sadly)
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Gaijin
It's not uncommon to be walking down the street in Hakodate, or anywhere for that matter, and hearing a gaggle of school children shout "Gaijin!" and stare at you in various forms of awe as you pass.
It's also not uncommon to be asked for directions to some place in town even though, regarding the fact that you can indeed speak Japanese, frankly just don't know where that place is, let alone are able to give directions to it.
And most of the time, people automatically try to speak to you in English, or worse off, just run away if you try to speak to them in what is obviously Japanese in the first place.
It's definitely a change, being the minority. There's lots of being stared at. There's lots of dumbing down (thank you host father, I do indeed know the word "obaasan" ><; I don't however know the word for state highway toll) and a lot of assuming you have no clue as to anything in Japanese, even though you're clearly in Hakodate for a reason.
It's a huge bizarre, black-hole feeling when you realize you can't express anything more complex than telling your host family what you did in class today, and sometimes you can barely get that out. Every day, at least at this level, becomes this very rudimentary thing where you have the linguistic capability of a 5 year old but can't even understand them because of their using da-tai or mumbling or simply knowing more vocabulary than you. I miss having stimulating conversations with people and being able to actually express my opinions instead of turning to the weather when the conversation starts to lull.
There's definitely a hump to get over, but I'm slowly realizing how impossible that seems. Of course, I could devote myself to Japanese study, locking myself in a room and being fed cheese and bread under the door to perfect my language understanding but who wants to live like that? I've only spent two and a half years studying Japanese and am obviously not fluent, but felt like I had a relatively good grasp on some things. After sitting through a lecture in which I didn't understand a single word the feeling of discouragement was so heavy on my mind and I still can't possibly fathom all of the years and years and years of advanced study that would have to go in to becoming a professional translator.
It's not so much a discouragement as it is a wakeup call. Translation is really not my niche...
It's also not uncommon to be asked for directions to some place in town even though, regarding the fact that you can indeed speak Japanese, frankly just don't know where that place is, let alone are able to give directions to it.
And most of the time, people automatically try to speak to you in English, or worse off, just run away if you try to speak to them in what is obviously Japanese in the first place.
It's definitely a change, being the minority. There's lots of being stared at. There's lots of dumbing down (thank you host father, I do indeed know the word "obaasan" ><; I don't however know the word for state highway toll) and a lot of assuming you have no clue as to anything in Japanese, even though you're clearly in Hakodate for a reason.
It's a huge bizarre, black-hole feeling when you realize you can't express anything more complex than telling your host family what you did in class today, and sometimes you can barely get that out. Every day, at least at this level, becomes this very rudimentary thing where you have the linguistic capability of a 5 year old but can't even understand them because of their using da-tai or mumbling or simply knowing more vocabulary than you. I miss having stimulating conversations with people and being able to actually express my opinions instead of turning to the weather when the conversation starts to lull.
There's definitely a hump to get over, but I'm slowly realizing how impossible that seems. Of course, I could devote myself to Japanese study, locking myself in a room and being fed cheese and bread under the door to perfect my language understanding but who wants to live like that? I've only spent two and a half years studying Japanese and am obviously not fluent, but felt like I had a relatively good grasp on some things. After sitting through a lecture in which I didn't understand a single word the feeling of discouragement was so heavy on my mind and I still can't possibly fathom all of the years and years and years of advanced study that would have to go in to becoming a professional translator.
It's not so much a discouragement as it is a wakeup call. Translation is really not my niche...
Sushi Faux Paus
I'm wary about sharing this because I'm sure this will result in an abundance of terribly misinformed Japanophiles running around but it's too hilarious to not. If you know anything about sushi or Japanese culture or Japan, you will find this hilariously entertaining. If not, uh, only reference this at your own risk.
nabbed from Veronica !
nabbed from Veronica !
Saturday, July 17, 2010
I couldn't think of an appropriate title for this if I tried.
Just to sum up my weekend:
Friday night there was a 2 hour lecture by former HIF grads, talking about their experiences and how we can strive to be just that. Except that the whole thing was in Japanese. As in, everyone in attendance was Japanese. Fluent. Japanese. Adult. Speakers. After deeming it impossible to comprehend and realizing that our means of escape were slim if we actually went, we ducked out last minute and opted instead for kaitenzushi and an evening of understanding what in the world was going on.
Saturday was another lecture. I actually went to this one with my host mother. There's a big difference between sitting in a boring lecture and tuning out and sitting for 2 hours listening to something you legitimately didn't understand a single word of and having your brain turn off. Guess which one happened?
So after this my host mother insisted on bringing me to her parents'/sister's house in the country for some more bilingual brain grilling. Naturally, since we'll be on the road for an hour, the appropriate answer to lunch is donuts. Yes, we stopped at MisDo (read: Mister Donuts for all you non-Japanese abbriviation savvy folks) for donuts to eat then, donuts to eat later, donuts to take with us and donuts to bring back. Hooray, donuts!
Drove to the countryside with Mama and Risa, watched the Madagascar penguins followed by a synopsis from a 7-year old boy obsessed with quoting Tom & Jerry...
And then it gets better.
I feel like I should preface this by talking a little about my host family, since I don't believe I have yet done so. I'm staying with a family of three: Papa, Masako, works at a Honda dealership. He likes to mumble and walk around the house in his underwear (but you all alreayd know that), play Othello and generally be the "fun parent" of the house. Mama, Emiko, is equally lovable but actually acts like a woman in her mid-forties. She's a social worker and also manages to lift the couch up every weekend when she speed-cleans the house. They're relatively young it seems in comparison to everyone else's host parents, who seem to be in their 50's/60's or upwards, sometimes even living with Grandma and Pa too. Risa's a second year Jr. High student, 13 and the acquisition of her first boyfriend happened to coincide with my stay here. Overall, they're a relatively young and normal family.
Back to Saturday night. Papa's friends were having a BBQ so we all piled in the taxi and headed over to their place. At this point I knew nothing except there was a BBQ somewhere and unspokenly, thanks to the taxi, I knew that Mama and Papa were planning on getting fairly drunk. Now, they are completely responsible and most definitely allowed to have a few beers at their friend's summer BBQ, but I knew as soon as we got in the cab that this was going to be pretty entertaining.
The BBQ was at a tire shop. Like a legit, sitting in the bay area of a tireshop eating yakitori and yakisoba and drinking all under the watchful eyes of Leonardo DiCaprio (who happens to be doing a CM campaign for something to do with tires over here at the moment). This led to going above the shop into the house to play Smash Brothers with the kids and be compeltely baffled by the banter going on between Risa and the housewives of Hakodate. That's one thing they don't prepare you for in your Japanese program - listening to dating and marriage advice from Japanese stay home moms in their 40's. Japan - 1.
They also don't prepare you for the slur of words that your host father spills out which are infused not only with his usual mumble but he's now reduced to thinking your fluent in Japanese and simplifies his expressions down to a single, mumbled word. Japan - 2.
We head home, Papa stops the cab for an ice cream drill at the local combini, rush back in, get's home and he proceeds to run around the house in his underwear with a plastic bag over his head pretending to be a super hero. Mama is all hugs at this point and keeps trying to sneak Risa's onigiri for herself. They then decide that we are going to play the most complicated board game ever. Which I understood nothing of but still managed to win 2 of 3 games before needing to go to my room and laugh hysterically at the night's events.
Oh, Japan.
Friday night there was a 2 hour lecture by former HIF grads, talking about their experiences and how we can strive to be just that. Except that the whole thing was in Japanese. As in, everyone in attendance was Japanese. Fluent. Japanese. Adult. Speakers. After deeming it impossible to comprehend and realizing that our means of escape were slim if we actually went, we ducked out last minute and opted instead for kaitenzushi and an evening of understanding what in the world was going on.
Saturday was another lecture. I actually went to this one with my host mother. There's a big difference between sitting in a boring lecture and tuning out and sitting for 2 hours listening to something you legitimately didn't understand a single word of and having your brain turn off. Guess which one happened?
So after this my host mother insisted on bringing me to her parents'/sister's house in the country for some more bilingual brain grilling. Naturally, since we'll be on the road for an hour, the appropriate answer to lunch is donuts. Yes, we stopped at MisDo (read: Mister Donuts for all you non-Japanese abbriviation savvy folks) for donuts to eat then, donuts to eat later, donuts to take with us and donuts to bring back. Hooray, donuts!
Drove to the countryside with Mama and Risa, watched the Madagascar penguins followed by a synopsis from a 7-year old boy obsessed with quoting Tom & Jerry...
And then it gets better.
I feel like I should preface this by talking a little about my host family, since I don't believe I have yet done so. I'm staying with a family of three: Papa, Masako, works at a Honda dealership. He likes to mumble and walk around the house in his underwear (but you all alreayd know that), play Othello and generally be the "fun parent" of the house. Mama, Emiko, is equally lovable but actually acts like a woman in her mid-forties. She's a social worker and also manages to lift the couch up every weekend when she speed-cleans the house. They're relatively young it seems in comparison to everyone else's host parents, who seem to be in their 50's/60's or upwards, sometimes even living with Grandma and Pa too. Risa's a second year Jr. High student, 13 and the acquisition of her first boyfriend happened to coincide with my stay here. Overall, they're a relatively young and normal family.
Back to Saturday night. Papa's friends were having a BBQ so we all piled in the taxi and headed over to their place. At this point I knew nothing except there was a BBQ somewhere and unspokenly, thanks to the taxi, I knew that Mama and Papa were planning on getting fairly drunk. Now, they are completely responsible and most definitely allowed to have a few beers at their friend's summer BBQ, but I knew as soon as we got in the cab that this was going to be pretty entertaining.
The BBQ was at a tire shop. Like a legit, sitting in the bay area of a tireshop eating yakitori and yakisoba and drinking all under the watchful eyes of Leonardo DiCaprio (who happens to be doing a CM campaign for something to do with tires over here at the moment). This led to going above the shop into the house to play Smash Brothers with the kids and be compeltely baffled by the banter going on between Risa and the housewives of Hakodate. That's one thing they don't prepare you for in your Japanese program - listening to dating and marriage advice from Japanese stay home moms in their 40's. Japan - 1.
They also don't prepare you for the slur of words that your host father spills out which are infused not only with his usual mumble but he's now reduced to thinking your fluent in Japanese and simplifies his expressions down to a single, mumbled word. Japan - 2.
We head home, Papa stops the cab for an ice cream drill at the local combini, rush back in, get's home and he proceeds to run around the house in his underwear with a plastic bag over his head pretending to be a super hero. Mama is all hugs at this point and keeps trying to sneak Risa's onigiri for herself. They then decide that we are going to play the most complicated board game ever. Which I understood nothing of but still managed to win 2 of 3 games before needing to go to my room and laugh hysterically at the night's events.
Oh, Japan.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Musings
Japan is full of quirky little things...
- My host father has quite the collection of absurd boxer briefs. How do I know this? Every morning (okay, and evening. And pretty much whenever he feels like it) Papa wakes up and parades around the house in his pajamas, which consist of usually a white undershirt and neon orange boxer briefs. It doesn't bother me, I'll say that first. I walk around my house in my underwear too. I just wasn't expecting the rigid and private nihonjin to be so not-private about this. Now, I don't blame him, their room is so small and the bed literally takes up all of the floor space save for maybe a square two feet, so I see the need to get dressed in the dining room daily. And besides, I'd hate to interrupt the daily flow of things in the Ohashi household, and if that means referee striped boxer breifs so be it.
- Also, my host father likes to mumble. He has a deep voice to begin with that makes him a little difficult to hear but he thinks it's absolutely hilarious when he asks me something and I have to cross the entire room just to try and make out what he's slurring together. And sometimes he'll do the helpful thing of trying to use the English word when he can, thinking that what he's saying is a difficult concept for me. Actually Papa, I've known what the word "michi" means for some time now. However, how about try explaining the word for national highway toll instead of assuming I can rattle that one off. Hooray listening comprehension!
- Once again, and I can't stress it enough: Stop putting mayo on every thing you eat, Japan. There is a time and a place for mayonaise and on my mashed potato-salad concoction is not it.
- The cafeteria at school had a pretty boss Engrish menu at the start of the summer. Though I suppose they overheard us talking about the "large height of rice" and managed to fix their poor English and reprint the menus :)
- So, one day my host sister Risa, who's 13, plops down on my bed, wait, I should preface this. Sometimes I' m sitting at the desk in my room doing homework when Risa just waltzes in and lays down on my bed. This is normally when I'm 10 seconds away from going to sleep myself or just coming out of the shower and need to get dressed. And she just lays there. Doesn't talk. Doesn't really do anything but text people for a good 30 minutes. Yeah, a little awkward in the sense that how do you respond to that? Okay, so one day she waltzes in and plops down on my bed like is more common that you'd think. Though this time, after about 10 minutes she speaks up and starts telling me about these problems she's having with her best friend Saya. Turns out, Risa likes Saya's ex-boyfriend/on-again off-again boy thing Masa. Masa is two years their senpai. Risa's in a rut about this and all worked up because Masa really likes Risa and Risa doesn't want to confront her best friend ever until after their big volleyball tournament. Lo and behold, I wake up one morning and no one's home until Risa come's home from practice. With Masa. And proceeds to tell me not to tell host Mom while she giggles madly. It gets better. Soon after the doorbell rings, in which Risa proceeds to freak out, throw the boy and his belongings on the back patio and pray for her life. It's Saya. What the hell that was really about I'll never know, but a few minutes later and Saya's gone and everything's back to being awkward. Then Mom comes home and it goes from there. I had no idea I'd be a live studio participant of Maury in Japan. I'm curious to see how the rest of this turns out.
- I've been basically walking around Hakodate with a bag full of trash for 3 days now. It's nearly impossible to find a trash recepticle and when you do, deciding which box that banana peel should go into is harder than you think. I was under the impression that everything as basically covered by the "burnable" and "non-burnable" categories alone.
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