The other day, one of my smartest kids -- as usual -- finished his work before everyone else. So I struck up a little conversation with him. He has a Pokemon pencil case and I started pointing to different characters asking their names. I pointed to Pikachu and said, "I know Pikachu, but," pointing to the rest of the characters, "I don't know who these guys are."
Usually kids in any country are happy to go on for hours about who their favourite cartoon character is, what he likes, what his powers are, what his weaknesses are, what happened the last time he did such and such. I've met kids -- they do this. But this smart kid gave me a smart ass answer.
"Why do all foreigners only know Pikachu?"
He's 5 so he said this in Japanese, expecting that I wouldn't understand. And because of the rules at work (we're not allowed to speak Japanese) I maintained the illusion for him. The other two kids in the class thought it was hilarious that he said this, and they laughed and laughed while I sat there with a dumb "I don't know what you're saying in Japanese" smile on my face.
I gave them all extra homework and told them Santa Claus isn't real. But they're smart kids and they like homework, and they don't celebrate Christmas because they're Japanese, so neither of those things had the desired effect; that is, their spirits were not crushed.
Showing posts with label language. Show all posts
Showing posts with label language. Show all posts
05 February 2011
08 December 2010
Learning Japanese - Validation
Studying another language is difficult and it sometimes feels like I'm not making progress. I'll sit on the train trying to understand what Japanese people are saying and I'll only be able to pick out a few words. Or I'll try to read advertisements and forget what certain kanji mean. But then things like the following happen that validate my attempts to learn Japanese.
This afternoon in one of my classes I corrected an 8 year old girl's kanji. There was a picture of a train ticket from Tokyo to Osaka and I pointed to Tokyo and asked if she knew what this word was. I helped her sound it out and then she wrote the kanji for it above the word. But I noticed that one of them was wrong. And she didn't. I looked at her, then at the kanji, then at her again thinking she would notice, but she hadn't. So I went for it.
"Chigau" is the verb "to differ from," but used the way she used it it roughly translates to "It's different!" "Sensei, kanji ga wakaru?" means "Do you understand kanji?" This episode took maybe 30 seconds but it made me feel pretty good about myself... Even if it was just one simple kanji that the 8 year old I corrected can draw better than I can with her left hand. Blind folded.
My other Japanese language episode was a lot more validating.
I was heading out to pick up some wine for a party last weekend and on my way out the lobby a Japanese woman said "Excuse me" in Japanese. From here on in, everything written in English was said in Japanese.
"Yes?" I said, smiling.
"Do you know how to use these new mailboxes?"
I turned around thinking there must have been a Japanese person behind me that she was talking to. But there wasn't. She was asking me, a dirty foreigner, how to do something she, a Japanese woman, didn't know how to do. I was floored. But it just so happened that I did know how to use the new mailboxes. So I mustered up my courage and saved the day.
"First, you have to turn to the right till the dial starts clicking. Then, stop at the first number. After that, turn left to zero and open the door." This was all said with perfect Japanese (and a little pantomiming...) - but there was one problem.
I was using my mailbox to give the demonstration, which made her think that every mailbox had the same code. Apparently she didn't get her code in the mail, which explained why she didn't know how to open the door. So I guess I didn't save the day entirely.
If you don't understand how these little events can make someone happy then you have to imagine experiencing them as someone who is learning a foreign language. The majority of the time it's frustrating as hell but then these little things happen that make the studying worthwhile.
After I bid the lady good evening ("Konbanwa!") I smiled the whole way to the store and all the way back. And it was the first thing I told Aimee about when she got home. And the first thing I told my friends at the dinner party. And, hopefully, it will be one of many more anecdotes about how learning another language is a lot of fun.
This afternoon in one of my classes I corrected an 8 year old girl's kanji. There was a picture of a train ticket from Tokyo to Osaka and I pointed to Tokyo and asked if she knew what this word was. I helped her sound it out and then she wrote the kanji for it above the word. But I noticed that one of them was wrong. And she didn't. I looked at her, then at the kanji, then at her again thinking she would notice, but she hadn't. So I went for it.
Mike: Is this 'Tou'? *pointing at the kanji on the left*
Student: Chigau! ...Sensei, kanji ga wakaru?
Mike: No. *smiling*
"Chigau" is the verb "to differ from," but used the way she used it it roughly translates to "It's different!" "Sensei, kanji ga wakaru?" means "Do you understand kanji?" This episode took maybe 30 seconds but it made me feel pretty good about myself... Even if it was just one simple kanji that the 8 year old I corrected can draw better than I can with her left hand. Blind folded.
My other Japanese language episode was a lot more validating.
I was heading out to pick up some wine for a party last weekend and on my way out the lobby a Japanese woman said "Excuse me" in Japanese. From here on in, everything written in English was said in Japanese.
"Yes?" I said, smiling.
"Do you know how to use these new mailboxes?"
I turned around thinking there must have been a Japanese person behind me that she was talking to. But there wasn't. She was asking me, a dirty foreigner, how to do something she, a Japanese woman, didn't know how to do. I was floored. But it just so happened that I did know how to use the new mailboxes. So I mustered up my courage and saved the day.
"First, you have to turn to the right till the dial starts clicking. Then, stop at the first number. After that, turn left to zero and open the door." This was all said with perfect Japanese (and a little pantomiming...) - but there was one problem.
I was using my mailbox to give the demonstration, which made her think that every mailbox had the same code. Apparently she didn't get her code in the mail, which explained why she didn't know how to open the door. So I guess I didn't save the day entirely.
If you don't understand how these little events can make someone happy then you have to imagine experiencing them as someone who is learning a foreign language. The majority of the time it's frustrating as hell but then these little things happen that make the studying worthwhile.
After I bid the lady good evening ("Konbanwa!") I smiled the whole way to the store and all the way back. And it was the first thing I told Aimee about when she got home. And the first thing I told my friends at the dinner party. And, hopefully, it will be one of many more anecdotes about how learning another language is a lot of fun.
06 October 2010
Stop Speaking Japanese To Me
Aimee and I are both studying Japanese but it's not that Japanese that this post is about. Although Aimee does sometimes find it irritating when I speak actual Japanese (my Japanese skills are higher than hers).
As English teachers we sometimes have to simplify our English when we talk to lower-level English speakers. This was a little difficult at first but after almost 7 months here it's ingrained and automatic. So much so that it's transitioned from a classroom thing to an outside-the-classroom thing. Perhaps this was inevitable.
The most common way to simplify your English is to make it really obvious that you're asking a question. In Japanese a question is made by putting a "ka" at the end of the sentence, so there's never any confusion about whether or not a question has been asked. If there's "ka," it's a question. In English it's sometimes a little more subtle. So one way to simplify your speaking is to make questions really obvious by having a rising intonation at the end of every one. This is natural with any yes/no question ("Did you have a good time?" "Do you want to see a movie?"), but a little less so with what/where/when/who questions.
We had this exchange last night:
It can be frustrating having to simplify your English but it's even more frustrating when that simplified English migrates into your everyday life. Next we'll be putting an "s" at the end of uncountable nouns.
Pray for us.
As English teachers we sometimes have to simplify our English when we talk to lower-level English speakers. This was a little difficult at first but after almost 7 months here it's ingrained and automatic. So much so that it's transitioned from a classroom thing to an outside-the-classroom thing. Perhaps this was inevitable.
The most common way to simplify your English is to make it really obvious that you're asking a question. In Japanese a question is made by putting a "ka" at the end of the sentence, so there's never any confusion about whether or not a question has been asked. If there's "ka," it's a question. In English it's sometimes a little more subtle. So one way to simplify your speaking is to make questions really obvious by having a rising intonation at the end of every one. This is natural with any yes/no question ("Did you have a good time?" "Do you want to see a movie?"), but a little less so with what/where/when/who questions.
We had this exchange last night:
Mike: What are you going to buy me for dessert? *his voice rising*
Aimee: Stop speaking Japanese.
Mike: Uh, what?
Aimee: You're speaking to me like I'm a Japanese person. *her voice rising*
Mike: Am I? *his voice rising*
Aimee: Yes, and it's really irritating.
It can be frustrating having to simplify your English but it's even more frustrating when that simplified English migrates into your everyday life. Next we'll be putting an "s" at the end of uncountable nouns.
Pray for us.
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