Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Moving
Hello again. I have been in Japan for about 20 days now, but in the back of my mind it still feels like a long vacation. I can tell that this is the case by performing a kind of thought experiment whenever I go outside. It works as follows: I stop walking and look around. Then I tell myself: "This is your new home now. You'll probably be here for the next couple years at least." Then I think about that statement. As of yet, this has not failed to produce a kind of mental vertigo mingled with disbelief. Moving to another country, however exciting, is a bit like being a plant yanked up by the roots and tossed onto an unfamiliar patch of soil whose texture and chemical composition you are not only not accustomed to, but who's precise location is several degrees of latitude removed from your original location (Gloria, that was for you -- though come to think of it, I really am several degrees of latitude removed).
In any case, I don't think I've passed a single day here without swinging from homesickness to delight/ fascination, or back, at least once. A constant source of pleasure: the architecture and geography of my hometown, Ikeda. I am at the bottom of a valley, steep hills covered in trees rising to the north and south. There are lots of old buildings here, new ones, and structures that look like they belong in a shantytown. Any of these may be covered in vines or have a bouquet of plants spilling out from the front porch. A constant source of displeasure: not being able to read, or understand, most restaurant menus, especially when I'm hungry. Even when the menus are written in katakana (a simple syllabic Japanese script), there's a world of difference between printed and handwritten characters, the latter of which often appear -- and even if one manages to sound out one's best guess, there's no guarantee that you'll be able to divine the English word it stands for, if it does stand for an English word! So far, there's one restaurant in town I feel safe eating at, and this is because all of the menu items are displayed in a case out front, and if I can't pronounce a dish I can always trot the waitress outside and point. It's not the classiest place, but it has served me well so far. Still, I'm on the verge of begging my co-workers to accompany me to some of the town's other places and showing me what's good.
Anyway, the point I wanted to make is that I'm trying to tackle this transition bit by bit. Learn a little more of the language every day, try to see something new in town and, if I'm lucky, introduce myself to a new person. Japanese is a beast of a language to learn, but I feel that if I keep studying, I'll be able to talk like a child in a few months. It's a rough wait, as I feel that if I had one thing going for me back in the States, it was my ability to put a thought into words after some consideration. That makes the prospect of learning Japanese all the more exciting in the long term, and all the more frustrating when progress doesn't occur as quickly as I'd like. I'll try to post notes on my progress, as well as my observations about this strange and humid world, in the coming months.
In any case, I don't think I've passed a single day here without swinging from homesickness to delight/ fascination, or back, at least once. A constant source of pleasure: the architecture and geography of my hometown, Ikeda. I am at the bottom of a valley, steep hills covered in trees rising to the north and south. There are lots of old buildings here, new ones, and structures that look like they belong in a shantytown. Any of these may be covered in vines or have a bouquet of plants spilling out from the front porch. A constant source of displeasure: not being able to read, or understand, most restaurant menus, especially when I'm hungry. Even when the menus are written in katakana (a simple syllabic Japanese script), there's a world of difference between printed and handwritten characters, the latter of which often appear -- and even if one manages to sound out one's best guess, there's no guarantee that you'll be able to divine the English word it stands for, if it does stand for an English word! So far, there's one restaurant in town I feel safe eating at, and this is because all of the menu items are displayed in a case out front, and if I can't pronounce a dish I can always trot the waitress outside and point. It's not the classiest place, but it has served me well so far. Still, I'm on the verge of begging my co-workers to accompany me to some of the town's other places and showing me what's good.
Anyway, the point I wanted to make is that I'm trying to tackle this transition bit by bit. Learn a little more of the language every day, try to see something new in town and, if I'm lucky, introduce myself to a new person. Japanese is a beast of a language to learn, but I feel that if I keep studying, I'll be able to talk like a child in a few months. It's a rough wait, as I feel that if I had one thing going for me back in the States, it was my ability to put a thought into words after some consideration. That makes the prospect of learning Japanese all the more exciting in the long term, and all the more frustrating when progress doesn't occur as quickly as I'd like. I'll try to post notes on my progress, as well as my observations about this strange and humid world, in the coming months.
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