As I'm gathered around the dinner table with my neighbours all around, the food just keeps comin'. I'm in heaven. I keep making notes. Translating fish names. The next plate arrives, pinkish meat with veggies.
"Douzo.. please, have some," the guy next to me says.
"Ooh, what is it?" I asked, chopsticks poised to grab a bite.
He smiles. He leans forward. All the other people around the table lean in as well.
"No no.. Just have some. Tell us.. if you like."
By this time I was just hoping that it wasn't something that used to be human. I pop it in my mouth. Chew. And chew. And chew chew chew. Salty. Chewy. Tasty. Oishiii desu!
The rest of the table was intently watching my every chew. They lean back, and remember to breathe.
"Ahh. You like? It is pig stomach. Hahaha!"
Oh, really? I ask, and pop another piece into my mouth.
Yup. I'll eat anything. Bring it on.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
O-no-ma-to-pe
As an avider reader of dictionaries, and a speaker of Afrikaans, it was inevitable that I stumble upon the Japanese idea of onomatopoeia within my first month.
Afrikaans is choc-full of onamatopoeia, but in a sense that the words mimic the sounds of the action. Words like "plons" and "klap" and "hop" are fun to say, and are extremely descriptive. You could paint a mental picture with verbs.
Japanese has a wealth of double-glance words. In the end, they don't mean anything to me because they are all just repetitions, but they are still fun to say, although they do not paint any mental pictures in my bilingual (soon to be semi-tri-lingual) mind.
Some of the words are:
tabi-tabi (often, many times, frequently)
waza-waza (especially, on purpose)
zoku-zoku (in succession)
pera-pera (fluently)
pin-pin (lively)
suya-suya (quietly, gently)
don-don (one after another, bang, beat, rapidly, on and on)
Last night at the short-notice dinner party (which turned out to be a party worth writing home about), the first dish was a small bowl of juicy looking snails (called baigai). Imagine my delight when I asked them how to eat it, and my neighbour took a toothpick and said "kuru-kuru".. and I knew that she meant "turn it round and round". Small joys everywhere.
Afrikaans is choc-full of onamatopoeia, but in a sense that the words mimic the sounds of the action. Words like "plons" and "klap" and "hop" are fun to say, and are extremely descriptive. You could paint a mental picture with verbs.
Japanese has a wealth of double-glance words. In the end, they don't mean anything to me because they are all just repetitions, but they are still fun to say, although they do not paint any mental pictures in my bilingual (soon to be semi-tri-lingual) mind.
Some of the words are:
tabi-tabi (often, many times, frequently)
waza-waza (especially, on purpose)
zoku-zoku (in succession)
pera-pera (fluently)
pin-pin (lively)
suya-suya (quietly, gently)
don-don (one after another, bang, beat, rapidly, on and on)
Last night at the short-notice dinner party (which turned out to be a party worth writing home about), the first dish was a small bowl of juicy looking snails (called baigai). Imagine my delight when I asked them how to eat it, and my neighbour took a toothpick and said "kuru-kuru".. and I knew that she meant "turn it round and round". Small joys everywhere.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
oh! bento
This is one of my favourite things about Japan so far.
It gives new meaning to the concept 'lunchbox'. I especially like the ones that has pink lotus root in it.
I just received a call from my one school's secretary, saying they are ordering bentos tomorrow for lunch, would I like one?
Oh, and would I..
The introductory speech I have to give in front of the whole school tomorrow, in Japanese, seems trivial because.. I'll have bento for lunch.
Another Day In The Life Of
I left early today from Ikura Chugakko, as they had nothing for me to do. The kocho sensei interviewed me for the monthly school paper, and I confused the shit out of them by listing "fire poi" as my only hobby. A dictionary consulting session followed, and "poi" was found to be a small Chinese potato. No, no, the other poi. Google images came to my resque (but what will the students think when they read it in the paper? Will they expect fried potato omiyage from me?)
Ikura Chugakko is on top of a hill, so getting there requires a drive up quite a steep incline. I'm sure all the kids in the school have beautiful calves. During my time at the school, three teachers asked me, with pride shining in their eyes: "So, what do you think of our slope? Steep, isn't it?"
After driving my car down the steep driveway, I stopped at a Lawsons for a tuna mayo onigiri, which I've recently become addicted to, and drove back to my tiny apato in Tetta-cho. I'm becoming more and more comfortable with breaking the 40 km/h speed limit, and I really am enjoying taking corners at the crazy speed of 60 km/h. It's almost an adrenaline rush.
As I get to my apartment, I decide to set back my plans of cycling to Niimi in favour of cleaning up the mess. I'm worse than a bachelor. A month down the line I still have papers from Tokyo orientation all over the show. I just started the systematic cleanup, when my doorbell rang. I picked up with a "moshi-moshi!", and a kid's voice replied something unintelligible. I opened the door in any case, and let Mizuki-kun in. He's a six-year old boy that seems to enjoy chilling with me while rambling away in Japanese, while I sit and clip my toenails and ask "nani? nani? nani?" the whole time.
Mizuki brought his Dragonball Z PS2 game. He had it there yesterday as well, and Nihongoed me though all the character profiles. Today he was convinced that my cd player was in actual fact a playstation, and tried repeatedly to get the disk to work. I looked up the word for "music", and kept repeating "ongaku, ongaku" while pointing at the cd player, but he was determined to transform it into something more.
Then the doorbell rang again.
"Moshi-moshi!" (I love saying that...) Reply is.. something in Japanese.. uhm.. so I open the door. There's an old Japanese man whom I've never seen before. He smiles and makes cutting motions in his hair with his hands. Uhh, no, I did not cut my hair.. Who are you? Maybe he was mistaking me for the previous ALT, who had long blonde hair and looked in no way the same as me. I introduce myself. He keeps rambling in Japanese. "Ahh, gomen nasai.. Only.. sukoshi Nihongo.." I utter.
He understands, and proceeds to include at least one english word per sentence.
"We have.. party for you? Yes? When?" Most of my evenings end in a beer drinking session with local gaijin, so it's not like I have a schedule or anything. We swop numbers and agree on next Monday. He says he'll phone me to confirm.
Back inside, Mizuki-kun is still trying the game on my cd player, stopping only to try on all my jewelery. He raids the fridge, and I give him chocolate. He colours in the pictures in my 100 yen katakana practise book. I have no idea what he is saying, but he doesn't stop talking. Eventually he just says "goodbye!" and runs out.
I make use of the opportunity to get on my mama chari (old-skool bicycle with a basket, but no gears), and cycle the 20 minutes or so to Niimi, where I can make use of free internet. While I'm replying to some mails from fellow South Africans, my phone rings. It's.. the dude from earlier. I can't remember Japanese names, as they all seem to be made up of different combinations of "yo", "ya", "ma", "no", "to" and "ri". It's all the same to me.
I moshi-moshi again, but this time with some apprehension. Ahh, they decided to move the party to tonight. I lack the language skills to fight, so I say that it sounds wonderful. Nan-ji? "roku-ji-han", he replies, which translates as 6:30. "So that's eight-sirty", he says. I can't muster up the enthusiasm to correct him, or attempt to figure out which of the times is correct, so I say my goodbyes, and decide to be home by 6.30.. and then wait. Who knows what the evening hold.
Nippon? Ahh.. sugooooi..
Ikura Chugakko is on top of a hill, so getting there requires a drive up quite a steep incline. I'm sure all the kids in the school have beautiful calves. During my time at the school, three teachers asked me, with pride shining in their eyes: "So, what do you think of our slope? Steep, isn't it?"
After driving my car down the steep driveway, I stopped at a Lawsons for a tuna mayo onigiri, which I've recently become addicted to, and drove back to my tiny apato in Tetta-cho. I'm becoming more and more comfortable with breaking the 40 km/h speed limit, and I really am enjoying taking corners at the crazy speed of 60 km/h. It's almost an adrenaline rush.
As I get to my apartment, I decide to set back my plans of cycling to Niimi in favour of cleaning up the mess. I'm worse than a bachelor. A month down the line I still have papers from Tokyo orientation all over the show. I just started the systematic cleanup, when my doorbell rang. I picked up with a "moshi-moshi!", and a kid's voice replied something unintelligible. I opened the door in any case, and let Mizuki-kun in. He's a six-year old boy that seems to enjoy chilling with me while rambling away in Japanese, while I sit and clip my toenails and ask "nani? nani? nani?" the whole time.
Mizuki brought his Dragonball Z PS2 game. He had it there yesterday as well, and Nihongoed me though all the character profiles. Today he was convinced that my cd player was in actual fact a playstation, and tried repeatedly to get the disk to work. I looked up the word for "music", and kept repeating "ongaku, ongaku" while pointing at the cd player, but he was determined to transform it into something more.
Then the doorbell rang again.
"Moshi-moshi!" (I love saying that...) Reply is.. something in Japanese.. uhm.. so I open the door. There's an old Japanese man whom I've never seen before. He smiles and makes cutting motions in his hair with his hands. Uhh, no, I did not cut my hair.. Who are you? Maybe he was mistaking me for the previous ALT, who had long blonde hair and looked in no way the same as me. I introduce myself. He keeps rambling in Japanese. "Ahh, gomen nasai.. Only.. sukoshi Nihongo.." I utter.
He understands, and proceeds to include at least one english word per sentence.
"We have.. party for you? Yes? When?" Most of my evenings end in a beer drinking session with local gaijin, so it's not like I have a schedule or anything. We swop numbers and agree on next Monday. He says he'll phone me to confirm.
Back inside, Mizuki-kun is still trying the game on my cd player, stopping only to try on all my jewelery. He raids the fridge, and I give him chocolate. He colours in the pictures in my 100 yen katakana practise book. I have no idea what he is saying, but he doesn't stop talking. Eventually he just says "goodbye!" and runs out.
I make use of the opportunity to get on my mama chari (old-skool bicycle with a basket, but no gears), and cycle the 20 minutes or so to Niimi, where I can make use of free internet. While I'm replying to some mails from fellow South Africans, my phone rings. It's.. the dude from earlier. I can't remember Japanese names, as they all seem to be made up of different combinations of "yo", "ya", "ma", "no", "to" and "ri". It's all the same to me.
I moshi-moshi again, but this time with some apprehension. Ahh, they decided to move the party to tonight. I lack the language skills to fight, so I say that it sounds wonderful. Nan-ji? "roku-ji-han", he replies, which translates as 6:30. "So that's eight-sirty", he says. I can't muster up the enthusiasm to correct him, or attempt to figure out which of the times is correct, so I say my goodbyes, and decide to be home by 6.30.. and then wait. Who knows what the evening hold.
Nippon? Ahh.. sugooooi..
Friday, August 11, 2006
It's the little things that kill
I am painfully aware of the fact that my blog is being spammed.
So, I visit it every now and again to delete the stupid "here are some interesting links" comments, in a futile attempt to keep my comment space clean and clinical.
So, why not just add the squiggly letter fucntion? I hear myself ask.
See, I'd love to add comment verification protection spam-prevention.. but.. In Japan, die whole damn blogger site is in Japanese. I don't even know where the "English" button is, if there is one. There's no chance that I'll be able to do anything more complicated that post a message, and hopefully, one day, add a picture or two. Yup, I am now more illiterate than I was at age 4. So, this must be what braindamage feels like...
On a less despondent note, I am trying my best to figure out how to travel about 700 kms North into the country to get to a party on the 18th, seeing as I have an insane amount of free time, which I'm getting payed for. The challenging bit is that I have no idea how this public transport system works..
Gotta find out some time though, and there's no better reason for learning to swim than throwing yourself into the deep side of the pool.
PS Until I find out how to englishify die blogger site, does anyone want my password to add the protection for me?
So, I visit it every now and again to delete the stupid "here are some interesting links" comments, in a futile attempt to keep my comment space clean and clinical.
So, why not just add the squiggly letter fucntion? I hear myself ask.
See, I'd love to add comment verification protection spam-prevention.. but.. In Japan, die whole damn blogger site is in Japanese. I don't even know where the "English" button is, if there is one. There's no chance that I'll be able to do anything more complicated that post a message, and hopefully, one day, add a picture or two. Yup, I am now more illiterate than I was at age 4. So, this must be what braindamage feels like...
On a less despondent note, I am trying my best to figure out how to travel about 700 kms North into the country to get to a party on the 18th, seeing as I have an insane amount of free time, which I'm getting payed for. The challenging bit is that I have no idea how this public transport system works..
Gotta find out some time though, and there's no better reason for learning to swim than throwing yourself into the deep side of the pool.
PS Until I find out how to englishify die blogger site, does anyone want my password to add the protection for me?
Monday, August 07, 2006
Say whaaaat?
There's no point in visiting my blog at the moment.
No, really. I'm in the process of adjusting and decompressing in Japan, and for that I need a gaijin card. Wait, let me try structure my thoughts. I have very little internet time on my hands, as those who have not been receiving mails from me will be able to say. Today I had my first day of school, which ended at 12h00 (what a bonus..), so afterwards I changed my clothes, repacked my bags, and got onto my hard-on-those-hills purple bicycle and tried to keep my eyes on the narrow road for the 5 kilometres it took to get me to Niimi central.
In Niimi I got sunblock (why did I not listen to my mother when she offered me a whole bottle, free of charge?) because my exposed parts are turning a rural shade of Japanese already. White legs, brown arms, maybe I should invest in a pair of weird gloves and a bonnet hat.
My point with the gaijin card was the following: Before I can enter into communication mode again, I need this aforementioned card to apply for landline connections, keitai accounts and yes, I'll have a fax machine as well. So I'll keep you posted. This all should happen in the next few weeks. Next two weeks.
Now to figure out which button will let me post this message...
Ja mata ne
No, really. I'm in the process of adjusting and decompressing in Japan, and for that I need a gaijin card. Wait, let me try structure my thoughts. I have very little internet time on my hands, as those who have not been receiving mails from me will be able to say. Today I had my first day of school, which ended at 12h00 (what a bonus..), so afterwards I changed my clothes, repacked my bags, and got onto my hard-on-those-hills purple bicycle and tried to keep my eyes on the narrow road for the 5 kilometres it took to get me to Niimi central.
In Niimi I got sunblock (why did I not listen to my mother when she offered me a whole bottle, free of charge?) because my exposed parts are turning a rural shade of Japanese already. White legs, brown arms, maybe I should invest in a pair of weird gloves and a bonnet hat.
My point with the gaijin card was the following: Before I can enter into communication mode again, I need this aforementioned card to apply for landline connections, keitai accounts and yes, I'll have a fax machine as well. So I'll keep you posted. This all should happen in the next few weeks. Next two weeks.
Now to figure out which button will let me post this message...
Ja mata ne
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