Ways to talk to someone who doesn't speak your language

Here are just some tips from me on how to deal with that pesky person who hasn't gained complete fluency in your language within five minutes of arriving in your country.

1. At the same pace as you usually talk, using your local dialect, but just really, really LOUD. Because the problem is not linguistic, it's a volume problem. This one works best if you have false teeth of some kind of speech impediment.

2. In the same way you talk to a puppy. With a cutsie wootsie little baby voice and cutsie wootsie baby words. Because it works on the dog, and he's really dumb, so it's bound to work on the foreigner. Feel free to squeal like Arashi just walked in your living room. A bit of arm flapping while screeching "cuuuuuuuuuute" is also advisable.

3. As if they had the mental capacity of a two year old. Basically the same idea as the previous one, but without actually patting said foreigner on the head.

4. Tell them they speak this new language really well, and then act surprised when they get lost in your twenty- five minute ramble about zen.

5. When they fail to completely understand your obscure cultural reference to a TV show from the 70s, smile patronisingly, wrinkle your nose in a way that you think is cute, and say "Aw, you don't understand do you?" Next, completely fail to explain anything, just repeat said patronising smile a few times. It's really helping.

6. Repeat simple words such as numbers under ten in said foreigner's own language, but leave the complicated grammar where it is. Because it's the simple words they're having trouble with you know.

7. Just avoid talking to said foreigner at all, simply ask their friend about them, even when they're sitting right there. Don't worry, they're perfectly comfortable with this. As are their friends, who just love to  share inane detail about the foreigner at any given time("she eats toast for breakfast" "Really? Fascinating." "Isn't it?").

8. Just stare at the foreigner. If you stare long enough, they'll be able to read your thoughts.

PS Can you tell that I'm a bit grumpy today?

Don't mess with me Blogger!

I've been trying to reply to all your comments by adding a comment, but Blogger won't let me.

Yes, that's right. Blogger won't let me comment on my own blog. What's with that, Blogger?

Anyway, thank you all, as always, for the lovely comments.

I'm still enjoying Jen B's I phone turning well-washed into Wellington Faste. Although I might skip the natto, I am thinking to venture out to get some miso.

Chris- I was thinking the same thing, next week is going to be amazing, teaching with a stomach bug is as close to extreme sports as I'd like to get these days.

M- I have some water to hand as I type (I'm all Pocari Sweated out for now). I'm replenishing as much as I can bear.

When I have something other than toilet talk to give you, I'll be back.

Not exactly elegant

There's no nice way to say this, I have a stomach bug, the kind that sends you running for the toilet on a regular basis. Elegant is not a word I have heard much of this week. Between my marathon hiccup and my newly acquired virus, you'd be forgiven for thinking I'm a bit accident prone.

I went to the doctor today. He gave me medicine, told me to eat yogurt and that he likes hiking, and some other stuff I didn't get. All very normal for a trip to a Japanese doctor, except that I had to explain to the nurse at the desk what was wrong with me, with one of my students standing nearby. Embarrassing or what?! I bet he's told his classmates all about it, and I'll get a whole heap of toilet humor in their next class. Mind you, I probably won't understand it, so it might not be that bad.

So, I'm off to drink a bit more Pocari Sweat (it's a sports drink, if you don't live in Japan, and I pretty much choose it because the name makes my inner five year old snicker) and hope things improve before tomorrow.

In which I prove, yet again, that I'm a bit of an idiot.

So, the marathon.

We left Matsuyama around lunchtime and arrived in Takamatsu almost immediately. At least, that's how it felt because I slept most of the way. I'm like a small child, stick me in the car, drive around a bit and I'll be asleep in minutes.

For dinner, we went to an izakaya, and then on to an udon shop for some of them there sanuki udon that are famous in the area. On the way we stopped for purikura, one of those photo booths where you can all pile in, get a picture of you all pulling goofy faces and then add some special effects. The usual target audience is teenage girls, so our merry band of definitely not teenage girls got a few looks, but in the way you can only manage in a big group after a good meal and a beer, we didn't care at all.

Then we stopped at the supermarket to pick some stuff up for breakfast. We had to get on the ferry to Shodoshima at 6am, so advance buying seemed like a plan. Except the supermarket didn't have any rice balls, which is what I usually eat before running.


"Meh," I thought. "Sandwiches will do." So I grabbed a pack of sandwiches and a bread roll, thinking it would be enough.

We headed back to our hotel, and I faffed about deciding what I should wear.




Blue shorts?

Or pink skirt?



I the end, I went for the pink skirt, despite the fact that my sneakers are also pink and, hello, trying too hard, because it has a pocket in the back for my I Pod, so I didn't have to carry a dorky little pouch. It even had room for a few sweets in case of energy dips.

We were all pretty cheerful and happy, despite the early start, and we had a good chat on the ferry.







When we arrived, I eyed the goal, looking forward to a good run.

We were all still genki and excited.



"But, what did you do that proved you were stupid, Sarah?" I can hear you all asking. So far, so good, right?

Right.

Well, remember that sandwich and bread roll I thought would be enough? Well, when I said that were you screaming "That's not enough food" at the computer? You should have been. Although, had you been screaming it in the supermarket, that would have been more help. Because it was nowhere near enough. See, idiot.

Around 9kms in, I started to feel a bit off. I had a sit down, but when I started running again, I gradually got dizzy. I gave up at 11kms, and sat down at the side of the road.

The staff had a debate about whether I was OK, and if someone should talk to me, which would have been hilarious in any other situation. Surely asking me might be better, but I think they assumed I wouldn't understand them. In the end, someone drew the short straw and came over.

They took me to a nearby gift shop which was doubling up as an aid station. I was wrapped in blankets, although the main reason I was cold was because of the air conditioning set at arctic temperature.

Later, I realised I should have pointed out the insanely cold air con, but I was pretty embarrassed by this time and I didn't want to put them to too much trouble.

The nurses wrapped me in towels (they didn't have blankets, it wasn't supposed to rain, they were ready for people with heat exhaustion). The shop staff made me tea, and the nurses gave me candy. I had a little snooze and then we went back to the goal in the people carrier. We had to stop to offer the stragglers a lift as we went, which reminded me of last year when I was a straggler and was offered a lift.

When I got back, I eventually tracked down the friend holding my tag to get my stuff back, and I ran to put dry clothes on. Then I went to grab a bento.

By this time, I was so hungry, I was worried I might collapse in the middle of the free noodle stand. Which was not how I planned to go. I literally ran  to the bento stand and demanded to know how to get one. I knew they were free and I needed a ticket to exchange, but where was the ticket? What ticket did I need? How do I get a bento? Help me, lovely lady, help me!!!

 I think I terrified the poor lady giving out the bento with my wild eyes and bad grammar. The fact that my bento was way better than anyone elses' makes me wonder if she gave me a VIP one in fear for her life. Maybe she was worried I would eat her if she didn't hand over the goods.

Either way, I felt infinitely better after a nice tea and a very delicious bento (sorry, no pictures, too busy stuffing my face), and even better after a sleep on the ferry back.

A car ride back to Matsuyama with a few quick stops, and I was ready for some yakiniku/biru. And some tea.

By this morning, I was full of the joys, until I saw the rain, but I've promised myself a week's break and then I'm going to get right back out there, with a proper breakfast in my belly, and see if I can't do better next time. 

 



Running among olives

As you read this (assuming you read it on Sunday, Japan time), I should either be waiting to, running, or have finished the Shodoshima Olive marathon. That's 21kms of running.

This year's goals are to remember to take my shoes and to finish before they reopen the roads...

Achievable? Maybe.

I'll let you know.

What's in a name?

With any group of foreigners in Japan, the conversation always seems to get back to what we should be called. The proper Japanese term for foreigner is 外国人　(gaikokujin), the kanji of which mean "outside country person". But in everyday conversation it is often shortened to 外人 (gaijin), which means "outside person".

Some people make much of the difference, saying that it is clearly disrespectful and prejudiced to use the term "Gaijin" because of the translation. They place alot of emphasis on the fact that it means we are outsiders, unable to mix into society in Japan. They feel it reflects an attitude on the part of the person speaking that shouldn't be accepted in everyday conversation. Others don't seem so bothered and often use it themselves (me included).

The debate came up again at work the other day, and one person in particular had quite strong feelings about it. He hates being referred to as a Gaijin, hates the use of the word and will make sure anyone using this term is aware of his opinion. Basically, he feels it is used to refer to anyone who isn't Japanese, regardless of where the speaker is at the time, which is factually incorrect. If a Japanese person is in America, for example, he argues, then they are, in fact, the "Gaijin", because they are not in Japan. (Why do I feel the need to add "You're not in Kansas any more, Toto, here? So inappropriate.) So the term is irrelevant, offensive and, as far as he is concerned, shouldn't be used.

I'm not so stressed about it personally, because I think, as with many things, it's all about context. I'm more concerned with someone's attitude than their vocabulary.

Immigration officers have used the term "Gaikokujin" to me, while being deliberately unhelpful and obstructive, but good friends of mine use "Gaijin" willy nilly while being kind, generous and helpful. The immigration officer is using all kinds of polite language but his whole attitude stinks.

 "You want to live in my country, work and pay tax? Well, in that case, I'd like it very much if you would jump through numerous pointless hoops, in a foreign language and produce endless pieces of paper that serve absolutely no purpose other than to give me something to stamp and make me feel important.Thank you ever so much."

Saying it nicely doesn't do a great job of covering up someone's distain for me. When someone treats me kindly, with respect, they can pretty much call me what they like. I can see their opinion of me, and that's good enough.

But the next time someone calls me "Gaikokujin" with a sneer on their face and a chip on their shoulder, perhaps I should let them know that they're not fooling anyone.

A uniquely Japanese problem

I can't imagine this happening to me at home, but yesterday I ran into a recent acquaintance. I've met her about four times, because we're both members of a teacher's association. She's always very chatty and friendly, so usually I would be pleased to bump into her.

Except, we were both in the bathtub at the gym. Which meant we were both naked. Awkward.

When I spotted her, I wasn't sure if she would realise it was me. She wears glasses, so I wasn't sure if she would be freaked out by a large white figure looming towards her in the bath. What to do?

So I went over and said hello, acting as if we weren't both stark naked. We had a pleasant chat about the weather and our air con use habits. It was all very civil, apart from the fact that we were both naked as the day we were born.

Was it wrong to go say hi? Or should I have just quietly disappeared, risking being labelled unfriendly? Anyone know?

A sure sign of old age

I've recently noticed that I am now at the age where young people assume I'm ancient. For my teenage students, I'm basically the crypt keeper. And I know what you're thinking. That young thing in the profile picture? Old? Really?

I'm afraid so.

Let's examine the evidence, shall we?

1. I just don't get AKB48. Every time a student lists them as their favourite group, I have to remind myself that I shouldn't snicker, they're not being ironic (don't know who AKB48 are? Probably for the best, but in case you're worried click here, but don't blame me when you have generic and yet infuriating music going around your head for the rest of the day.). I can see that they're cute, and wear short skirts and, well, are cute, but they're not even trying to dance the same steps at the same time, for goodness sake. And is it really necessary to have 48 of them? And was it normal for that guy to pay 150 000 000 yen to have a private show (get your minds out of the gutter, I mean they sang while he was the only audience member on a TV show where even the presenters felt the need to mock him.)? I'm sure they're delightful girls, and all that, but I just don't get why they're so popular. There's no shortage of cute girls in short skirts in Japan, so why this particular 48?
2. I naturally wake up early, even without an alarm. And sleeping all morning? Impossible. I'm like one of those old dears you see at the bus stop in the mornings, waiting for her bus pass to kick in. "I want to go to the supermarket, but it doesn't open until 9am, what can I do until then?" I'll be using a little shopping bag on wheels soon, just wait and see.
3. I grumble about people's bad manners. Would it kill the old lady behind me in the queue to wait until I've moved away from the cash desk before she slams her stuff down on the counter in front of me? How about a bit of please and thank you? On most days, I'm a bitten tongue away from pointing out to people that they have bad manners. Like a crotchety old woman.
4. I wear "comfy shoes" to work. The fact that they don't really match with anything and are no way esthetically pleasing is irrelevant. I stand up a lot at work and "comfy shoes" make that easier. Fashion isn't everything, you know.
5. When I use examples of famous people in my classes, I'm usually a few years out of date. My students think KimTaku is a bit of an old man (Click the link for a commercial he made last year or the year before). The trouble is, I don't even know who the kids are into these days (apart from AKB48 but, as I've already pointed out, I don't get them).
6. I've grown to love gardening. I fret if I think my flowers are wilting, and I'm seriously considering starting a container garden on the balcony. I may even buy gardening gloves. I've even seen some that I like. Yes, you read that right, I've been window shopping for gardening gloves.
7. I no longer understand technology. As much as I'd love an I Phone, part of me is a bit scared that I might not be able to work it. It's all so new and snazzy. And there's nothing wrong with an old style phone, they were good enough when I was young.

So there you have it. 7 reasons why I'm well on my way to old-lady-ville. Anyone want to join me?

Putting my money where my mouth is.

So, a couple of weeks ago, I decided to share with you all my opinion on nuclear power. Because there are never enough ill-informed opinions floating about on the internet, don't you think?

Anyway, last week was a humid hell, true rainy season weather. And, as anyone who has suffered through a Japanese rainy season will tell you, it's like being in a steam room for days on end, sweating rivers (except for Japanese ladies who don't seem to sweat at all, despite wearing endless layers of clothing) and generally hating the world. The usual way to cope with it is to ramp up the air conditioning and stay inside until autumn.

Except, that I had only just announced to the internet that we should be reducing our use of electricity, including the unnecessary use of air conditioning. Which sort of meant I couldn't use air con with abandon, because that would be hypocritical, and I'm a teacher, I'm supposed to be a role model and all that jazz.

To be honest, sweating in a room with 48 sweating students didn't make me as cranky as I thought it would. I was so far gone on the cranky scale, I couldn't get any crankier. I used my textbook as a fan, and urged the students to do the same. We opened the windows, and, being the newbie, nost of my classes were scheduled to be on the top floor (in a 5 story building in which the lift only goes to the fourth floor, go figure...) which meant that there was an occasional puff of wind to cool us a little.

I caved with a few classes and put the air con on for a while, at a fairly warm temperature (26c or so) just to avoid an actual temper tantrum in the middle of a class (me, not the students, humidity makes me seriously cranky), but was really proud of myself for risking being known as "that sweaty British teacher". Hopefully, that was rainy season and we will move on to a much more acceptable summer.

Oh, who am I kidding, June is blatantly going to be hell, someone somewhere has really aggravated old Mother Nature this year.

Dear whoever is in charge

Hi mother Nature, Papa weather, or whoever you may be,

I think we need to have words, quite cross ones, actually.

You see, I was under the impression that we had an unspoken agreement that you would back off a bit in May. That we could have a relaxing month between the freezing cold of winter and the insane humidity of rainy season, so that we could enjoy wearing cute spring clothes without worrying about sweat stains and maybe enjoy life away from either a heater or a fan. Was I mistaken?

Are you quite within your rights to unleash a whirl of humidity and heavy rain without prior permission? Was it necessary to unleash said rain when I was on my way to work minus my raincoat? And then to start it up again when I was on my way home from work? And to throw in a crazy humidity level so that all I was able to do last night was lie on the tatami with an ice pack on my head? I don't think so. I think that was a part of a perverse plan to, literally, rain on my parade. Either that or we need to renegotiate our unspoken agreement.

I appreciate that there is now a bit more water in the city's reservoir, which makes cutting off the water supply in the summer less of a possibility. I also appreciate that we had a few weeks of lovely weather in April. But, could we please have spring back? Pretty please?

Thank you so much.

Note to self- Connect brain before speaking

In class last week, I asked the students about their hometowns. The conversation went something like this.

Student: "I'm from Hyogo Prefecture."
Me: "Oh, how nice. And what is the famous product from Hyogo?"
Student: "It's Matsuzaka."
Me: "The baseball player?"
Student: "No, the cow."
Me: "........"

Turns out the breed of cow that is used for Kobe beef is called Matsuzaka, or something that sounds like it. Oops.

And that my friends is how to impress your students.

No! (Thank you)

When the roomies told me they were joining a demo against the nuclear power station in Ikata, I asked if there would be any window breaking. They looked a bit shocked, so I elaborated. In England, demos seem to result in someone smashing in the windows of a bank. I wondered if it was the same in Japan.

They assured me it would be a very polite demo, with some "unique" people politely requesting that the nuclear power station be closed.

"Why not?" I thought. "I don't really like nuclear power much anyway. And lots of weird people in one place is always entertaining."

An alternative use for a chil's umbrella. Or just a really radical kid.

They should have added please

All looking disappointingly normal so far. Nice banner though.

That's better

Waiting to cross at the lights. See? Good mannered.

There are more and more protests planned in this area, if they're all as gentle as this, someone somewhere will have to return the favour and listen politely. Surely.

Nuclear power and what I think about it

Since March 11th, we have all watched, horrified, as the Fukushima Dai ichi plant became steadily more and more dangerous. Residents of the area have now been evacuated and their animals remain trapped in the no go zone, a heartbreaking reminder of the on going situation.

Events there have given everyone cause to pause for thought and, for many, it has made us wonder whether nuclear power is really worth it. Last night CNN Japan showed a debate held at a London University about nuclear power. The panel discussed the possiblity of living without nuclear power, and whether nuclear power will ever really be safe. While I was a little disappointed with the content of the debate, I would have liked a clearer illustration of the facts, I was glad it was held.

For years, people have been arguing about the safety of nuclear energy, but since the Fukushima plant was damaged in the tsunami, the volume has increased. Those of us, and I include myself in this, who have pretty much been oblivious to the issues, have been forced to pay attention.

There is a nuclear power station here in Ehime, in a place called Ikata, which, as well as being famous for it's power station, is also famous for its mandarin (mikan) oranges. It's an area with a small, and aging, population. It also has wind turbines, which also produce electricity. Ikata hence produces much of the electricity used on this fine island of Shikoku. And if the worst happens, Matsuyama would be affected.

Yonden (Shikoku's electricity company, like TEPCO but with different colour boiler suits), assures us the power station is safe. In fact, they showed an emergency drill on TV, to demonstrate that they are prepared for the worst. But they said that about Fukushima.

Both sides of the argument claim different things, and I really don't know who to believe.The authorities they tell us nuclear power is safe. Day to day, in normal circumstances, they tell us it's safe. Opponents show us increased rates of cancer and deformed children. I'm not informed enough to hold my own against either side.

For me, the problem I have with nuclear power is what happens when the unexpected happens. Like I say, we're told the authorities have every eventuality covered. When there was an earthquake in Niigata a few years back, the safety features of the power station kicked in and we haven't heard much about it since (at least not down here in Ehime). The trouble is that when something unforeseen happens, the result is earth shattering.

On top of the terror of the tsunami and earthquake, people in Fukushima have to worry about being irradiated. The Fukushima workers (who numbered far more than 50, despite being tagged the Fukushima 50), who were chosen according to whether they had children already, or if they were older and so more likely to die naturally before the effects of the radiation start to show, risked so much to try to get things under control. It will be years before we can truly see the full impact of what has happened in Fukushima, but we already know it will be terrible.

I know sustainable energy isn't developed enough to power a city like Tokyo (where much of the electricity from Fukushima goes, hence the power shortages). At least, not yet. But it is something we need to look at more closely.

Perhaps if we all started to see electricity as a precious resource, and treated it as such, we could make sustainable energy a more realistic option. Personally, I don't need TVs on the main shopping street in town. I can wait until I get home to watch Ehime's rip-off of AKB-48. Maybe they could just be put on when something major happens, use them for informational purposes. Then there's the "light up" of Matsuyama castle. We all know where it is, why don't we just light it up at weekends or special events? We've got so used to wasting power, we now consider these things as a necessity.

Switching the TV off at the switch and unplugging things I don't need are simple things, but if everyone does them, we could save ourselves a lot of power. And all that before I start on my hatred for air conditioning. Seriously, I really don't like it, but in a humid climate like we have here, and when I teach up to 50 people in one room, it's a necessity. But we don't need it cranked up all the time, we could try opening windows, especially in this season when there's actually a breeze (not in Summer, opening the windows just makes it worse, trust me I've tried.).

And once we've saved some power, we can start to switch to other ways to get it. I've heard of a scheme in England where the electricity company installs a solar panel on the roof of your house, you take the electricity that you need and they sell the rest to others. I have a feeling you pay for the solar panel, so it's not an option for everyone, but, once you've paid, it's free leccy for as long as the sun shines. And they were doing that in Britain, where the sun rarely shines, think of what could happen if it was done somewhere sunny, like Ehime, for example.

I'm not an expert on this stuff, I'm aware of how little I know about solar energy, wind energy and alternative sources of power, and I plan to keep learning about it. But, this is what I think about it now.

Let me know what you think.