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- Herausgeber: Owen Rosa
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
"Chipping Away: The Japanese Language Through the Eyes of a Foreigner" is a captivating non-fiction work by Owen Rosa that delves into Japanese language and culture through the lens of real-life experiences in Japan. Spanning 15,000 words, the book offers readers an engaging way to grasp the intricacies of Japanese language and culture, presenting critical aspects through lively short stories and humorous anecdotes.
From his time in high school exchange programs to immersive experiences in karate schools and corporate life, Owen Rosa shares insightful perspectives that resonate with both newcomers and seasoned enthusiasts of Japanese culture. The inclusion of original illustrations and clear charts enhances the narrative, making complex topics easily accessible.
"Chipping Away" is designed for anyone interested in understanding Japan holistically, whether as visitors, new residents, or culture enthusiasts seeking a deeper insight. Its timeless appeal ensures that readers of all ages can enjoy and learn from these stories for years to come. Distinct from traditional textbooks, this book provides a unique literary approach to language learning, making it a valuable addition to the library of Japanese culture enthusiasts worldwide.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023
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Owen Rosa
CHIPPING AWAY
The Japanese Language Through the Eyes of a Foreigner
Table of contents
CHIPPING AWAY
Dedication
Author’s Note
Introduction
Wall One: Speaking with Few Words
Chip 1: Gestures
Chip 2: Body Parts
Chip 3: One-Word Wonders
Chip 4: Most Important Word
Wall Two: Learning the Culture
Chip 5: Accepting Gaman
Chip 6: Bridging the Gaps
Chip 7: Too Kind for Dirty Words
Chip 8: Clueless about Discriminatory Words
Chip 9: Everyone Loves Blood Type-O
Chip 10: A New Culture Shock - Local Dialects
Wall Three: Relearning English
Chip 11: Can’t Say McDonald’s
Chip 12: How to Say Paris Collections
Chip 13: Confusion in Sports
Chip 14: Tradition vs. Modern
Wall Four: Alphabets
Chip 15: Japanese Doesn’t Sell
Chip 16: You Only Need One Alphabet
Chip 17: Too Many Words
Wall Five: Habits and Customs
Chip 18: The Origin of Shabushabu
Chip 19: I’m Not a Hispanic Woman
Chip 20: I Hate Valentine’s Day
Chip 21: Hybrids Are Not Just Cars
Wall Six: Samurai Style
Chip 22: Everything is Timing
Chip 23: The Mayor’s Manual
Chip 24: Teaching by Fear
Conclusion
Final Word
Appendix 1: Pronunciation of Japanese Words
Appendix 2: Word List
Credits
CHIPPING AWAY
The Japanese Language Through the Eyes of a Foreigner
Dedication
To my parents who never asked me to stop chipping
Author’s Note
Throughout the book Japanese words are first written in their romanized form (the western alphabet) followed by the Japanese pronunciation.
For more information on pronunciation and a list of all the Japanese words in the order they appear in the book, please refer to the appendices I have included.
Introduction
My experience of studying Japanese has been like chipping away at a marble wall. Since I started studying Japanese at the age of sixteen, I have held on to a hammer and chisel, slowly chipping away at an endless white marble wall day by day. Whenever I would accomplish new feats and felt as if I might have broken through a wall, such as returning home from a student exchange program or graduating from college, the exhilaration quickly dissipated as I soon discovered another shiny marble wall right behind the old one. These new walls were the beginnings of new experiences that were required to further master the Japanese language. Even after 30 years, I continue to chip away tirelessly in hope of someday reaching the other side.
In my lifetime thus far, I would say I have chipped through six “marble walls.” The first was the toughest marble of them all. I started chipping away at sixteen when I ventured to Tokyo as a high school exchange student to study at an all Japanese high school and live with a non-English speaking host-family. When I arrived, I only knew three words of Japanese: kon’ nichiwa (ko-n-nee-chee-wa) or “hello,” sayonara (sa-yo-na-la) or “goodbye” and okane (o-ka-ne) or “money.” My young age, lack of language ability and ignorance about the Japanese culture caused great culture shock and struggles. The other five walls were not as hard as the first but were all crucial in finding “the way” to master the language. These include: my experiences studying Japanese in university, starting my first job as a translator for the mayor of a rural Japanese city, training as a live-in-student in a karate school, working at a Japanese beauty company, and being the only American in a Japanese investment company based in Tokyo.
Chipping through each wall has given me new insights to the Japanese language and culture that form the foundation of this experience, meaning that my opinions may not always be factually correct, but are drawn from my own learnings throughout the years. In the following pages, I have chosen to write about topics on the Japanese language that I find most interesting and fun not only for non-Japanese speakers, but also to native Japanese people because they can experience and re-discover their language from the eyes of a foreigner. I have structured the book based on this idea of chipping through walls. There are six walls that focus on certain subjects of the Japanese language and are divided up into sub-sections, referred to as “chips.” Each chip shares an aspect of the language based on the theme of its wall explained with anecdotes from my experiences learning the language, from communicating with my karate teacher in the rural mountains of northern Japan to selling t-shirts that say “New York” in Japanese on the streets of Brooklyn, New York. I have brought to life these experiences through illustrations and charts to make a complicated language easier to understand and have created the character of Yuzo along with others to help demonstrate my points.
So please enjoy or, as they say in Japan, tanoshinde kudasai
(ta-no-shee-n-de koo-da-sa-ee).
Wall One: Speaking with Few Words
Chip 1: Gestures
Hand gestures are an easy and fun topic to begin Chipping Away, even though they may not be the first thing one expects in connection to speaking Japanese. Typically, when you think of languages where people talk with their hands, English or Italian might probably come to mind, but most people would never think of Japanese. Even the Japanese themselves would not think of their own language! In fact, there are many funny and original gestures noteworthy of mention.
In English, speaking with your hands often has little meaning and is used more out of habit. In contrast, Japanese gestures communicate specific meanings and are used to avoid saying inappropriate or embarrassing words out loud. For example, if you want to describe someone as stuck-up and arrogant, you use your hands to imitate a Tengu (ten-goo), a long-nosed evil ghost or demon from Japanese folklore. People who express arrogance publicly are thought to be stuck up and referred to as having their noses raised high, which looks like a Tengu. It is too direct and rude to refer to someone openly in public as arrogant so instead you make the face of a Tengu by holding your fist in front of your nose and making an extension of your nose. Let’s take a look how Yuzo demonstrates the Tengu hand gesture here:
Stuck Up
One experience with Japanese gestures happened towards the end of my year abroad as a university student in Tokyo when my host family treated me to a frewell dinner. We were discussing all the experiences I had during the year and how different they were compared to my high school exchange program. However, there was one topic that was deemed too sensitive to discuss in front of my host-mother and host-sister – that fact that I had a girlfriend during this year compared to my lonely high school exchange year in Japan. To avoid making this point out loud my host-father leaned over to me quietly and showed me his right pinky under the table jokingly. (Raising your pinky finger indicates a man having a girlfriend. Similarly, raising your thumb refers to a woman having a boyfriend.) Even though it was my first time seeing this gesture, I easily understood his point from the context and laughed.
Girlfriend
Gangster
Drag Queen
Chip 2: Body Parts
Humility
The use of hand gestures to avoid saying sensitive words out loud demonstrates creativity and a sense of humor among the Japanese that is noticeable throughout the language. Another example of this creativity involves phrases about body parts – the Japanese have created sayings involving almost every part of the body to express everything from a person’s personality to their lifestyle. In Japan, you can describe someone as being humble by saying they have “low hips” with koshi ga hikui (ko-shee ga hee-koo-ee), which describes a person who does not want to stand out among others and physically stays lower than others.
You describe someone who has a large network of friends as having a “wide face” with kao ga hiroi (ka-o ga hee-lo-ee), meaning that their face is widely known by many people. If you look up a body part in a Japanese dictionary, you will most likely find several creative expressions related to that body part.
Wide Face
In addition to being creative and humorous, the Japanese are also extremely detailed, which allows them to decipher unique meanings from various body movements. For example, you can say that someone’s “knees are laughing” with hiza ga waratteiru (hee-za ga wa-la_te-ee-loo) to describe that they are tired from walking too much, or state that their “eyes are swimming” with me ga oyoideiru (me ga o-yo-ee-de-ee-loo) to call them out for lying.
Laughing Knees
Swimming Eyes
One of my favorite Japanese expressions is waki ga amai (wa-kee ga a-ma-ee), which translates directly into “sweet armpits” and describes someone who is careless and doesn’t pay attention to detail. I learned this phrase during my time working at a Japanese investment company when my boss at the time was upset about our business partners being careless in understanding the details of a contract we had in place with them. At first, I did not understand why he was saying their armpits were sweet. It seemed as if he were saying that they were wearing floral-scented deodorant. But after listening further to his complaint, I figured out what he meant is that they were being careless. Later on, I learned from my Japanese colleague that people who pay attention to details are described as keeping their arms tight to their body, to hold things like important documents, whereas those who are careless let such things slip out with their “sweet armpits.”
Let’s take a look here at some popular phrases using parts of the body:
Chip 3: One-Word Wonders
Creativity and a unique sense of humor form the basis of expressing emotions, personalities and various situations through describing body parts. Moreover, the in directness of the Japanese culture has created a complex vocabulary of single words that express meanings that would otherwise require full sentences in English. The ability to understand intricate meanings through various contexts and situations in Japanese allows for these words to take on so much more meaning without needing subjects, objects or verbs. I call these the “one-word wonders.”
My favorite one-word wonder is taihen (ta-ee-he-n), a word used to describe almost any kind of difficult situation. In Japan, I constantly find myself in challenging situations where it becomes very convenient to simply use the word taihen to convey my experience without explaining the details. When I was an exchange student in a Japanese high school, I struggled with just about everything in Japan from language, receiving international money transfers from my parents or just getting lost on the street. It was difficult to describe these struggles in detail, but if I used the word taihen to my Japanese friends, it always explained my situation adequately. How I wish we had this word in English! Every week I would call my mother via collect on a public phone (I did not want my host family to hear me complain about Japan) and would complain about the complexities of the cultural experience and having an English equivalent to taihen would have made my life so much easier. However, because no English equivalent exists, I had to explain each situation in such detail that resulted in very long collect calls costing my mother a fortune over the year.
Complaining to Mom
Probably one of the most popular one-word wonders the Japanese use is uso (oo-so), which directly translates into the word “lie.” It basically means “it cannot be true” and is used for either calling something a lie or expressing surprise while offering praise. This word is so commonly used as the Japanese often superficially praise people and they are over-skeptical of most things. It is also a great word that I would recommend for foreigners when they see something amazing for the first time in Japan or they are told something unbelievable. I remember first hearing uso when I showed up to my Japanese high school for the first time when many of the students were so surprised to see a foreigner in the same school uniform that they reacted by saying uso .
First Day of School
There are an endless number of one-word wonders, but l have asked Yuzo to put together a few of his favorite ones and explain their various meanings below:
Chip 4: Most Important Word
One-word wonders are convenient because they are easy and quick to use and do not require any complicated grammar, but they are sometimes limited to specific situations. As Yuzo points out in the previous topic, there are many one-word wonders, but I believe there is one word that deserves its own topic: yoroshiku (yo-lo-shee-koo). It is a unique one-word wonder because it can be used in almost any situation, so I would suggest to anyone visiting Japan to learn this word at the very least.
A vague but meaningful word, yoroshiku can be used in many situations. For example, when you ask for favors, introduce yourself, want to say no or just need to fill the silence to avoid awkwardness. It is a word that means so much contextually yet at the same time has no real substance, making it almost impossible to define and translate into English. The best way to explain would be through one of my experiences. I remember sitting on a bus ride to a karate summer camp in Ehime Prefecture on the island of Shikoku with a mix of students from the U.S. and Japan and a Japanese student asked me to translate yoroshiku when she was talking to one of the American students. Although she was speaking in English, she did not know how to say yoroshiku because there is no direct translation and what she wanted to say had more than one meaning. In this case, she wanted to say all of the following:
Obviously, I could not translate all this into one quick word in English, so I just said “she is happy to meet you,” but this interpretation certainly did not do justice to the nuances of what she wanted to say.
I also find yoroshiku extremely convenient in business when you do not want to answer yes or no. For example, when you express interest in a deal but want to avoid making a binding commitment you can just say the word yoroshiku at the end of the meeting to demonstrate interest without making any promises. Although, I warn you again about misinterpretation because sometimes one person hears yes while the other is saying no. Once, when my Japanese boss was pitching an investment to a potential Japanese investor over dinner, both sides ended the dinner saying yoroshiku, and my boss assumed it was a done deal. Unfortunately, the deal never happened because the investor’s yoroshiku meant “Let me think about it” (meaning no) whereas ours meant “yes.”
The Most Important Word
These are just a few ways yoroshiku is used. Let’s take a look below as Yuzo demonstrates when he likes to use the word:
Wall Two: Learning the Culture
Chip 5: Accepting Gaman
Behind the word gaman (ga-ma-n) lies a deep but vague meaning that needs to be learned through experience. I learned the meaning of this word over years of living with a Japanese family and karate training in Japan.
When I was a high school student living with my Japanese host family, my host father often told me that I needed to have gaman to get through the daily challenges of living in Japan and studying in an all-Japanese school. When I first looked the word up in my Japanese-to-English dictionary, the word was defined as “to have patience” or “to endure.” At first, I thought that he was telling me to have patience in learning the language. What he actually meant, however, was for me to accept the different rules, culture, and lifestyle without resisting and acknowledge that I would come to understand the benefit sometime later on in the future. For example, if I was able to function in Japanese society under the same rules as my fellow students, such as attending school on Saturdays or wearing a strict school uniform every day, I would develop more discipline and strength that would make me a stronger person in the future. It was not until I returned home to America after my year in Japan that I actually realized how much stronger, confident, and disciplined I had become so that I could take on even bigger challenges at the university or professional levels.
One of the greatest challenges I took on after my high school experience was deciding to live and train in a karate school in a rural area of northern Japan as a live-in-student or uchideshi (oo-chee-de-shee) from the ages of 25 to 27. Not only did this experience require me to rely on my understanding of gaman gained in my high school exchange program, but it also challenged me to further understand and accept this concept.
Every day I was “enduring” challenges while trying to learn this martial art, and I would be scolded for things that I did not understand. For example, I would be yelled at for not anticipating my sensei (se-n-se-ee), meaning teacher, wanting to kick or punch in a certain direction before he actually performed the move, or when other students were falling behind or making mistakes and I did not correct them fast enough. Although today I now understand the reasons behind this kind of scolding, at the time I did not because they would come with no explanation and would often leave me returning to my dormitory frustrated and confused without understanding why my sensei kept yelling at me. What I learned was that it was more important for me to accept and try to figure out why my sensei was reacting in this way rather than to question and resist him. Part of the learning process for the uchideshi was learning how to accept gaman and to improve and fix a problem rather than saying I do not understand and giving up.
The word used in martial arts which represents gaman is osu (o-soo). Osu is more of a response or reaction sound than an actual word and communicates an agreement to accept and follow instructions without question. A direct translation in English would just be the word “yes,” but this is not fully correct as “yes” on its own does not convey the subtleties underlying the idea of gaman.
Accepting Gaman
One of the main reasons why many foreigners (and even some Japanese themselves) find it difficult to live in Japan for long periods of time, especially women, is the dislike or inability to accept the concept of gaman . I also believe that gaman is a key factor contributing to the high levels of suicide in Japan: people reach their limits and decide to end their life instead of resisting and expressing their true feelings.
Below, Yuzo explains different concepts of the gaman manifest in Japanese society today:
Chip 6: Bridging the Gaps
Another unique word in the Japanese language is genba (ge-n-ba). Different from words like yoroshiku or gaman, which are vague and difficult to translate into English, genba is more direct and fairly easy to translate and understand. What makes genba interesting is how the word is used in completely different contexts but still retains the same idea and basic meaning. Genba is the combination of two characters, “ gen,” meaning “now” or “to appear,” and “ ba,” meaning “place,” which directly translates into a “live scene” such as you would see on a T.V. news program that broadcasts from a “scene” of an accident or crime. Although the word is most commonly used to describe a place where things are created such as the assembly line for new cars in a factory, or a construction site for a new building, it can also refer to the meeting room where a new deal is being negotiated. Genba is thus primarily associated with blue collar work, but can also be applied to white collar jobs. In essence, genba represents a place where things are created or work is conducted.
When I worked for a beauty company in Japan, the management at headquarters would always refer to their hair salons and stylists as genba or the “ genba level,” and they constantly struggled to form strong relationships with their genba level colleagues. Although colleagues in the same company, employees at the headquarters were not considered stylists and did not have daily interaction with customers, and hence were considered different from those working at the salons. When I joined the company as their first foreign employee in Japan I was put into a unique position where I worked at both the genba level and headquarters, which allowed me to help bridge some of these gaps. As a foreigner I was not considered either genba or management but was independent and truly different, which allowed both the genba and management to open up to me and actually use me as a way to communicate to one another. I was often invited to the salons after closing hours to listen to the opinions of the genba level staff while someone would either dye my hair purple or trim my eyebrows with the hope that I would communicate with the management about their situation the following day when I would return to my desk at headquarters.
Floor Level
My greatest contribution to this company was not only supporting them to expand overseas but also helping these two levels come closer together. Understanding the culture of this company helped me to understand a deeper meaning of genba. Nonetheless, this word has many uses that are straight forward, as Yuzo will demonstrate for us:
Chip 7: Too Kind for Dirty Words
Anyone familiar with Japan would acknowledge that the language simply does not have a lot of “dirty words” or kitanai kotoba (kee-ta-na-ee ko-to-ba) compared to many other languages. In English, for example, there are numerous dirty words and curse words, but the Japanese language only has a limited number of words that would be considered inappropriate. Many Japanese people may argue that this is not true because they consider the inappropriate use of regular language to be vulgar, such as shortened or simplified versions of proper words. This is not the same as a curse word such as “f*ck, ” which is a “pure” vulgar word that is not a shortened version of a proper English word.
Let me explain: when I was training in karate and a student said the word suman (soo-ma-n) to our sensei, which is a shortened version of sumimasen (soo-mee-ma-se-n), meaning “I am sorry” or "excuse me," it upset my sensei in such a way that a special meeting was held to discuss the issue and everyone was told about the incident and asked to not use such language in the dōjō (do-o-jo-o), a place to practice martial arts. I remember thinking how this was not even a curse word and in the U.S. no one would even think this was inappropriate because it is simply a shortened version of regular language. The main reason this was considered kitanai kotoba was it was a student speaking to his teacher in a disrespectful way by using the short version of sumimasen. The older age of the teacher and the fact that a teacher is in a position of high respect in society dictates that the student should speak using proper language. If someone says suman to a friend of equal status in society, the same word would most likely not be considered kitanai kotoba.
There are only a few kitanai kotoba that are not shortened versions of regular language, such as kuso (koo-so), which is akin to saying “sh*t” in English. I remember fighting a karate match where my opponent repeated the word kuso to himself throughout the match as he was unsuccessful in overpowering me. This is similar to the way we use “sh*t” in upsetting or frustrating situations.
Cursing
Some other curse words are yarō (ya-lo-o), which is used to call someone a “jerk,” and probably the most common word is baka (ba-ka), which means “stupid.” Although these are kitanai kotoba, they are very soft curse words compared to the foul language used in English or other Western languages. It is obvious that these kitanai kotoba do not have the same level of harshness as English curse words when we observe that they are often used on public television programs and in public venues where in most other countries vulgarity is censored and bleeped out.
I believe the lack of kitanai kotoba is evidence of the kindness of the Japanese language and culture itself. For many foreigners, Japan’s appeal includes the people’s kindness, safety and mannerisms, and many of these key traits are embedded in the language. The few kitanai kotoba that are not shortened versions of regular language were not actually used in Japan until more recent times. I suspect that Japanese people have been influenced by hearing more and more vulgar words used in foreign languages such that they have developed their own versions of these curse words, like kuso or yarō.
Chip 8: Clueless about Discriminatory Words
Unlike kitanai kotoba that are obviously inappropriate, there are a category of words actually considered appropriate to the Japanese but in my opinion, should be inappropriate. I call these words the “unrecognized discriminatory words” or muishiki (moo-ee-shee- kee) no sabetsu (sa-be-ts) na kotoba (ko-to-ba). The most common example of an unrecognized discriminatory word is the word for foreigner, often referred to as gaijin (ga-ee-jee-n), which translates roughly into “an outside person” or sometimes a “barbarian” or “alien.” This term is a shortened version of the word gaikokujin (ga-ee-ko-koo-jee-n), which translates as a “person from a foreign country.” While gaikokujin is not racist, removing the letters “ koku ,” meaning “country,” creates gaijin . To the Japanese, the meaning remains the same, but in English it creates a completely different word. I have argued with Japanese people countless times about this difference, but the usual response I receive is that they cannot tell the difference and the word has no racist intention.
I remember working in a Japanese company where I was the only foreigner in the office and my Japanese colleagues would often use the word gaijin with no regard to whether I could hear them using the word or not. I once specifically asked the entire company at a meeting to stop using the word gaijin and please use the word gaikokujin, but it was met with mixed responses where only the company president responded positively by saying the word was strange and should not be used. Most people just ignored my request and continued to use gaijin.
Discrimination
When I would talk about the issue with my Japanese colleagues on an individual basis I would often be told that they cannot tell the difference between the two versions of the word and do not have any bad intentions saying gaijin. It is difficult to argue this point because to some extent it is true, but once when I was in a meeting with my colleagues and we were speaking to a potential client, which was a foreign company, I noticed the same colleagues using the polite version, gaikokujin, rather than gaijin, and realized that they do understand the difference. Honestly, still today, I am confused whether they really can recognize whether a word is discriminatory or not, or whether they really just do not care about how myself and other foreigners may feel about it.
Another unrecognized discriminatory word is OL (o-e-loo) which is only written in romanized letters and translates into the English words “Office Lady.” The term refers to women who do administrative work in a company office such as secretary. Over the years, as more foreign companies have opened offices in Japan or merged with Japanese companies, the term is being used less, but many traditional Japanese companies still officially call these positions OL. A similar word referring to men who work in company offices is sararīman (sa-la-lee-ee-ma-n) or “salaryman.” Although this term refers to men, I believe it effects the same level of discrimination and sexism as OL. The image of a “salaryman” is an emasculated Japanese man in a black suit, often nerdy, robotic and lacking fashion sense.
I have realized over the past fifteen or so years a new unrecognized discriminatory word has emerged to label the children of mixed couples in Japan (i.e., the child of a Japanese national and foreign person), called hāfu (ha-a-foo) or “half” in English. Hāfu is the shortened version for referring to someone who is half Japanese and half foreigner, but by not referring to the actual nationalities of the person it creates a word that pretty much only says “you are half.” In my opinion, this term makes it sound like you are referring to a mixed breed dog, or even implying that someone is only “half” a real person.
That these words are not recognized as discriminatory among most Japanese people is frustrating. The reason for this is that they are usually just shortened versions of longer words or sentences, but in my opinion, if it is rude to apologize to my karate teacher by using the shortened version of sumimasen, it should also be rude to use shortened versions of gaikokujin to a foreigner or hāfu to a bi-racial Japanese person in today’s society. Fortunately, over time these words are being recognized as discriminatory and used less in daily language, especially by the younger generations. Still, there needs to be more awareness.
Chip 9: Everyone Loves Blood Type-O
Most foreigners would never guess that when Japanese people want to learn about your personality they do not ask what are your favorite movies or hobbies, but rather what is your “blood type” known as ketsueki-gata (ke-ts-e-kee-ga-ta). On a date, job interview and especially at omiai (o-mee-a-ee), a meeting for arranging a marriage, it doesn’t take long before someone asks you about your blood type. The Japanese have such a strong belief in the connection between personalities and blood types that people would seriously consider avoiding relationships or working together with someone if their blood types do not match well.
I will never forget how surprised my host father was when I told him that I did not know my blood type when we first met. He was not aware that many foreigners do not know their blood type and that we never ask each other this question in casual conversation. Initially, I thought he was concerned about what to do if I was in an accident and needed blood, but over time I realized that this is a very popular question in Japan and he just wanted to know more about my personality. I later asked my high school doctor to check my blood type at our annual physical and learned that I was Type-O, or O-gata (o-ga-ta). Luckily, O-gata is supposedly a very compatible personality and gets along with all the other blood types.
My Blood Type
Perhaps analyzing blood type is Japan’s version of astrology and Zodiac. Instead of your personality being defined by your birthday, it is by blood type. Whatever the origin, however, what is certain is that if you come to Japan it would not be a bad idea to check your blood type before arriving. When I was student at a Japanese university, one of my language teachers thought the topic was so important that she actually gave the class a one-page detailed explanation of the personalities of each blood-type to learn as a homework assignment. Going through the various details on blood-type personalities with my host brother, I remember that he insisted I had to be Type-B because of my personality. Type-B is often described as someone who wants attention, which my host brother argued was a true reflection of me since I was always talking about trying to get on Japanese TV at the time. I proved him wrong, though, when I reminded him my Japanese high school doctor found that I was actually Type-O.
I'm Easy-going
For foreigners, understanding the characteristics associated with each blood type and their population ratio is a great way to learn about the kind of people that exist in Japan. Let’s take a look at how Yuzo explains each blood type, their compatibility, and ratio in Japan with the chart below:
Chip 10: A New Culture Shock - Local Dialects
When you live or visit outside of the Tokyo area one of the first things you will hear is that each area of Japan has its own dialect called hōgen (ho-o-ge-n), but usually referred to as that area’s ben (be-n), such as Osaka- ben. Unlike the different accents recognized in the U.S., such as a New York accent or the Southern Draw, Japanese hōgen are completely different from “Standard Japanese,” known as hyōjungo (h-yo-oo-joo-n-go) and most commonly associated with the Tokyo region. Hōgen can be shortened words, mixed with similar but different syllables, or just completely different words that create a unique language specific to each area. Even Japanese who are not originally from these areas will find it very difficult or even impossible to understand. I did not really understand the difficulty of hōgen until I moved to Hanamaki City in Iwate, Prefecture, a small city in the Northeastern region of Japan known as Tohoku, at 22 years old and experienced Hanamaki- ben.
When I moved to Hanamaki City to work at the local city hall as a translator I was initially pretty confident in my Japanese ability after living in Tokyo for two years as a high school and university exchange student and also studying Japanese at my university in the U.S. for three years. However, after just several days of living in Hanamaki I quickly realized I was going to have to learn a whole new kind of Japanese. In my first few months, I made many friends by eating at the local restaurants and visiting bars in the local drinking area called a hankagai (ha-n-ka-ha-ee). Most of the new friends I made there had lived in Hanamaki their entire lives and could only speak the local dialect.
Drinking with Locals
During my years in Hanamaki I had many conversations with local friends about why Japan has so many hōgen. The conversation that stands out was the idea that each town created its own dialect to protect themselves from outsiders. They were not talking about foreigners from other countries, but rather other Japanese from enemy areas. If someone could not speak the local hōgen they would sasu (sa-soo), “stab,” the outsider. Of course, my friends were referring to customs from hundreds of years in the past, but in many ways this culture still exists in these rural areas. I am often told that Japanese who move from Tokyo to a small city like Hanamaki still find it difficult to assimilate into the local culture not just due to the differences between life in a large city and the rural countryside, but much to do with the barriers created by the local dialect. In my case, I was most likely accepted by the locals because I was a foreigner from a completely different country and could receive a “free pass” for not understanding the local language. Unfortunately, a Japanese person would not receive the same kind of leniency.
In addition to a culture of protectionism, hōgen also represents a culture of pride and sometimes arrogance. For example, the most famous hōgen is Kansai- ben from the Kansai region in Western Japan (i.e., areas southwest of Tokyo). Kansai is famous for major cities like Osaka, Kyoto and Kobe. It is known as a region rich in historical culture and foods, and is famous for its comedians and TV personalities, resulting in Kansai- ben often featured on game shows and variety shows broadcasted nationwide. I believe the high profile of their dialect gives Kansai people a special pride about their origin that they speak in their hōgen in excess amounts, even to others not from Kansai. However, they get upset when someone tries to speak in Kansai- ben if they are not originally from the region. I was once told that I was acting like a “wanna-be” or wazatorashi (wa-za-to-la-shee) when I tried answering a text message in Kansai- ben to a friend from Kyoto.
This is quite different from areas like Hanamaki in northern Japan, where people often try to hide their hōgen from others and speak in standard Japanese when they travel to places outside their hometowns. Similarly, people from Tohoku are often very shy and humble and try to hide their origins by speaking in standard Japanese, despite the Tohoku region being one of Japan’s most beautiful areas. If I spoke to my friends in Hanamaki- ben it would be received with great joy rather than disapproval.
Fortunately, Yuzo from Hanamaki is not shy and likes to share about his local Hanamaki- ben, so let’s learn some of his favorite sayings:
Wall Three: Relearning English
Chip 11: Can’t Say McDonald’s
You might have noticed in Chip 8 that the word sararīman is almost the same as the English pronunciation of “salaryman.” This word is a representative example of wasei-eigo (wa-se-ee-ii-go), or “Japanese-English.” Japanese-English is almost a separate language within Japanese, specifically for non-native words, and even has its own alphabet: katakana (ka-ta-ka-na). The best way to understand Japanese-English is to think of it as speaking English or sometimes other foreign languages with a Japanese pronunciation. It is a separate language for foreign words that do not have direct translations (such as names of places or people), or sometimes it is preferred over the Japanese translation because of untranslatable nuances or simply to create a Westernized style of speech.
When you first learn about Japanese-English you may think it will be a convenient and easy way to speak Japanese by simply pronouncing an English word with a Japanese accent, but in reality it is much more difficult than expected. Ironically, I believe Japanese-English is the most difficult part of Japanese because if you do not pronounce the words perfectly in the same way as the Japanese, it is almost impossible to communicate them to someone. The tricky part here is that we are so used to pronouncing these familiar words in a certain way, that it can be quite difficult to adapt to the Japanese version which is specifically created for the sounds used in the Japanese alphabet. For example, in Japanese, it is impossible to pronounce English sounds such as “v,” “l” or “r.” Hence, for the word “volunteer” you would use the sounds of “bo” instead of “vo,” “la-n” instead of “lun” and “tee-a” instead of “teer” so it becomes “bo-la-n-tee-a.” I remember this was one of the first Japanese-English words I had to learn because my exchange program in high school only used “volunteer” host-families and the Japanese instructors at our orientation in Tokyo continuously were saying “bo-la-n-tee-a” during their lectures on our host families. Even though these instructors were speaking English I still found it impossible to understand the word because they used the Japanese-English word rather than the proper English pronunciation. It is difficult for most Japanese to break this habit when trying to speak English.
When I first came to Japan, I had a tough time adjusting to Japanese food and used to go to McDonald’s almost every Saturday after school (Japanese high schools used to hold half-day classes on Saturday) because it was cheap and was one of the few places that served the exact same food as in the U.S. However, when it came time to tell my host family where I was eating lunch every Saturday, I could never say McDonald’s in the proper Japanese-English way, which is Makudonarudo (ma-koo-do-na-loo-do), so I used to air draw the golden arches of the McDonald’s logo to communicate the meaning. The “Mc,” “do” and “l” English sounds were very difficult for me to pronounce in Japanese-English, as they sound more like “maku,” “dough” and “lou” respectively. McDonald’s in Japanese was effectively pronounced “maku-dough-na-lou-dough,” and I could not switch from my native English to this Japanese-English version. Even after 20 years in Japan I still have difficulty saying McDonald’s correctly in Japanese-English, and it was not until I learned that you could shorten certain Japanese-English words such as McDonald’s by just saying makku (ma_koo), that I was finally able to tell people where I was eating.
Can't Say McDonald's
Now let’s take a look at Yuzo’s list of the most difficult Japanese-English words for foreigners to pronounce:
Chip 12: How to Say Paris Collections
When I learned that McDonald’s could be shortened to makku, I started to realize that the Japanese love shortening and combining words to make them faster and easier to say, or simply to create hip new words. This is especially true for Japanese-English words. One of the most common examples is the term for “personal computer,” which is pāsonaru konpyūtā (pa-a-so-na-loo ko-n-p-yoo-oo-ta-a) but often combined and shortened into just pasokon (pa-so-ko-n), the first two syllables of each word.
This custom of shortening and combining words actually originates from the Chinese language. As the Japanese use Chinese characters as one of their alphabets, called Kanji (ka-n-jee), they also adopted this habit of combining characters of multiple words.
When I worked for a Japanese beauty company we sponsored a new fashion show in Nagoya City called “Nagoya Collections.” Some of our hairstylists told me that over time, locals would most likely start to call the event “Mei-Kore (me-ee-ko-le),” because it would be easier and trendier to shorten and combine these words. They explained to me that “ Mei” was another way of calling Nagoya based on the Chinese reading of the first character for Nagoya and “ Kore ” is a shortened version of “Collections” pronounced in English-Japanese. This is similar to how the Japanese refer to the famous Paris Collections fashion shows in France, which many call “Pari-Kore ,” (pa-lee-ko-le).
Fashion Show
Now let’s see below what other shortened and combined Japanese-English words Yuzo can show:
Chip 13: Confusion in Sports
The use of Japanese-English words in sports such as golf or baseball is very common because many sports come from English-speaking countries and it is easier for the Japanese to play the game using the original words but with a Japanese pronunciation. Many of these words make sense and sound similar to the original, but occasionally they do not at all. For years when I watched Japanese baseball I did not understand why the announcers said the term “foul ball” when a pitcher threw four pitches out of the strike zone and advanced the batter to first base. In American baseball, this is called a “walk” because the batter walks to first base without having to hit the ball. The term “foul ball” in American baseball means the batter hits a pitch into foul territory and receives a strike, which is the complete opposite meaning from a “walk.” Eventually I figured out that they were saying in Japanese-English the word foabōru (fo-a-bo-o-loo) meaning “four balls” that sounds very close to “foul ball,” and has the same meaning as a “walk” in English. When baseball was first introduced to Japan by Americans in the late 19 th century, people most likely misheard an American umpire yelling out “ball four” in proper English after the pitcher threw the fourth ball out of the strike zone and would walk the batter. This created the Japanese-English word foabōru and the term became so often used that it has remained unchanged.
The most misused Japanese-English word in sports is fā (fa-a) in golf, which sounds like “far,” but is actually the incorrect way of saying the word “fore,” used to warn people standing in the path of the flight of a golf ball. I am a passionate golfer and love playing in Japan, but always think it is strange when my caddie and Japanese friends yell “far” if a ball is hit towards some other golfers. I used to think that they must be trying to say “fore” but have difficulty with the pronunciation, so they use the word “far” instead because it easier to pronounce. Over time I realized that they actually mean to say the proper English word “far.” The logic for this is that since the ball is hit “far” away, it should be the proper terminology in golf. Sometimes I think that makes sense, but then I get confused on what to say when the golfer standing in my ball’s flight path is not so far away. Similar to “foul ball” in baseball, the proper English word “fore” was most likely misheard and difficult to repeat when the Japanese first learned about playing golf so they started to use “far” instead. (It is easier to pronounce “ar” than “or” in Japanese.) Like many things in Japan, it is often too late and difficult to change any of these Japanese-English words because they are solidified as a part of the Japanese language and the sport in Japan. As such, just be aware that if you yell “fore” on the golf course, people may not know to get out of the way of your ball.
He's Not Far Away
There are many examples of Japanese-English words in sports that may seem rather strange as they likely arose from a misunderstanding and inability to pronounce the proper foreign word in Japanese. Let us take a look at some of these words with Yuzo below:
Chip 14: Tradition vs. Modern
In sports, using Japanese-English words make sense because there is often no Japanese equivalent for unique words such as “a walk” in baseball or “fore” in golf. However, what can get extremely confusing is when a Japanese-English word and an original Japanese word both have the same English translation, but a different meaning. For example, the word “receipt” has both the Japanese word ryōshū-sho (r-yo-o-shoo-oo-sho) and the Japanese-English word reshīto (re-shee-ee-to), which are both used for receipts that you receive after purchasing a product. My karate teacher once asked me to buy some whistles for a tournament and bring back a receipt, which he called a ryōshū-sho , in order to be reimbursed. When I returned from the store I handed him what I thought was a receipt, but he immediately told me that it was not a ryōshū-sho but just a reshīto . At the time, I was upset about being told I had made another mistake and did not understand the difference, so I argued that it was a receipt. What I later realized is that the original Japanese word ryōshū-sho and the Japanese-English word reshīto are actually quite different. The word ryōshū-sho is a traditional receipt form that includes the official stamp and name of the seller with only the bill’s amount. These are often preferred because they are easier to file as a business expense for tax purposes, but needs to be asked for specifically at the register or you will just receive a reshīto . A reshīto is a simple itemized list of products that you would usually receive from a cash register and is more difficult to use officially in deducting expenses for tax purposes.
There are many other cases where traditional Japanese words and their more modern Japanese-English equivalent have the same translation in English, but actually are quite different. When my Japanese girlfriend and I were discussing this topic over dinner with my father in New York, my father (who does not speak any Japanese) could not understand why the Japanese use Japanese-English words instead of their own original words. I remember specifically using the dining room table as an example and explained to him that everyone in Japan would call their dining room table, a tēburu (te-e-boo-loo). He laughed and said that tēburu is not a Japanese word and there must be a Japanese-origin word that similarly means dining room table. Although I tried my best to explain that everyone in Japan uses the Japanese-English word, my girlfriend was able to point out that her grandmother would still most likely call their family dining room table a chabudai (cha-boo-da- ee). A chabudai is the traditional Japanese word for a dining table that is low to the ground and people eat by sitting on the floor. However, as more homes started using Western-style tables the name changed to the Japanese-English word tēburu.
How do you Say Table in Japanese?
Let us see how Yuzo can help us understand some of these subtleties by listing up some English words that translate into both traditional Japanese and Japanese-English words:
Wall Four: Alphabets
Chip 15: Japanese Doesn’t Sell
Katakana, one of three Japanese alphabets, is specifically used for Japanese-English words or other foreign language-origin words including names of people, foods, or places. Although there are cases when it is used for original Japanese words, it is often a stylistic embellishment for advertisements or Japanese onomatopoeia, which will be discussed in Chip 18.
Katakana uses the basic 48 sounds of the Japanese alphabet, and are pronounced in the same way as the other two alphabets, but uses block-style strokes that appear more Westernized. Consequently, many foreigners do not think they are looking at Japanese when they see a word written in katakana . Below, Yuzo writes the word “New York” in katakana , which clearly demonstrates this point.
When I first returned to the U. S. from Japan after my high school exchange program, I tried selling t-shirts and hats in front of my father's clothing store in Brooklyn that had New York printed in Japanese on them. However, since foreign words including cities can only be officially written in katakana , the block-style strokes used to write New York were not stylistic enough to generate interest from buyers. The idea was good, but the alphabet was wrong. A few years later, the fashion trend took off when someone had the same idea but with Chinese instead. I suppose to foreigners who did not know the difference between various Asian scripts, Chinese characters looked a lot more Asian and was a hit seller.
Unpopular Japanese
I have been told before that katakana was an alphabet created during the Edo Period (1603-1868) for illiterate people, primarily uneducated women, because the block-style strokes were easier to write than hiragana and kanji.
Following the Edo Period came the Meiji Period (1868-1912), when Japan opened its doors to the West and Japanese-English vocabulary was created for all the new words entering society. During this time, katakana was designated as the alphabet for non-Japanese words, but I am still unsure of the specific reason. My best guess is that the alphabet was deemed to be simpler for foreigners to use. Unfortunately, katakana never gained traction as an alphabet for foreigners, and is used only to write foreign-origin words rather than function as a standalone alphabet. Therefore, Japanese learners still have to learn how to write all three alphabets to be proficient in Japanese.
Chip 16: You Only Need One Alphabet
The hiragana (hee-la-ga-na) alphabet uses the same 48 sounds as katakana, and after a few weeks of basic studying (or a few years in the case of the less dedicated), you should be able to read and write the alphabet. Katakana takes about the same amount of time to learn, but seems meaningless because you can just use hiragana to write the same words, including Japanese-English vocabulary. The kanji alphabet discussed in the following Chip is an endless battle with complex characters that many foreigners do not even bother to learn and usually spend years living in the country only understanding hiragana and katakana.
It is possible to read and write all words with hiragana, but unfortunately the reality is that most Japanese words include at least one kanji. Moreover, the heavy use of katakana coupled with the popularity of Japanese-English words makes it near impossible to read the language properly without knowing all three alphabets. The complexity of using three alphabets discourages many people from studying the language and living in the country because foreigners are limited to doing less interesting work requiring only English or their native language. It would be much easier to work and function in society if people were only required to use hiragana.
Japanese people will often argue that that without the use of kanji or katakana, the language becomes too confusing to read because spaces are not used in the Japanese language to separate words. Instead, words are made more easily distinguishable through the use of different alphabets. Additionally, giving up kanji feels like giving up a part of the Japanese culture due to the fact that the characters are regarded as more of an art form rather than simply an alphabet. The final result is a complex language with three alphabets that protects people from outside competition and literally allows the Japanese people to keep foreigners from participating fairly in society. For example, when I worked for the US-based branch of a large Japanese trading company I was often told that they could not promote local staff to management positions that required daily communication with the Japan headquarters because the emails and investment applications known as ringi-sho (ree-n-gee-sho) were all written in Japanese and it would be too difficult for a non-Japanese to understand.
Endless Characters
I have worked for numerous Japanese companies and the number one reason I struggle to advance to higher positions always comes down to language, and I am not alone in facing this challenge. Although I have learned all three alphabets, there are still kanji or Japanese-English words written in katakana that I cannot understand that limits my ability to compete on an equal playing field. This situation is similar to the phenomena I describe in Chip 10 on Japanese dialects, or hōgen, where Japanese communities protect their territory through language.
In my opinion, the best decision for a company in Japan to make would be to shift to using more English, but even without this I still believe the language needs to be reduced to just hiragana and limited kanji to allow foreigners to function in society at the same level as Japanese. This will take some time but hopefully not as long as it is taking me to learn kanji. Let‛s have Yuzo compare writing a sentence with all three alphabets versus using just hiragana with spaces to demonstrate the reality of using all three alphabets together:
Chip 17: Too Many Words
In addition to katakana and hiragana, the Japanese language has yet another alphabet called kanji, which originates from China and consists of over 50,000 characters. Fortunately, it is only necessary to learn around 2,000 to read and write Japanese fluently. I know 2,000 sounds a lot easier in comparison to tens of thousands, but kanji still presents a major challenge for many foreigners learning Japanese, especially those without a background in the Chinese language.
When I first came to Japan in 1993 I was given two dictionaries: one Japanese-to-English and the other English-to-Japanese. Foolishly, I thought I would be able to finish learning all the Japanese words in a one-year exchange program and be fluent before returning home. Six months later, I was dismayed when I was already halfway through my exchange program and still did not know most of the words in my Japanese-to-English dictionary. In hindsight, I should have known this right from the start upon receiving the two dictionaries - the Japanese-to-English dictionary was clearly more than twice the thickness of the English-to-Japanese one.
My Heavy Japanese-to-English Dictionary
The main reason for this difference in thickness is the use of kanji and the fact that this alphabet creates many words with slightly different meanings used for similar but specific situations, whereas in English we would use just one word. A character of kanji can represent just one word with a general meaning as in English, but it can also combine with other kanji that allows it to create more words used for specific situations. This is possible because kanji has both a Japanese reading, referred to as the kunyomi (koo-n-yo-mee), created when the alphabet was adopted from the Chinese language and its original reading from the Chinese language called its onyomi (o-n-yo-mee). The kunyomi are used for single words with a more general usage, while the onyomi combine with other kanji and their onyomi creating words with similar but more specific usages.
The word “establish” is probably the easiest case to explain this phenomenon. In English, the single word “establish” explains various situations related to establishing something such as “to establish a company”, or to “establish a school.” In contrast, kanji creates not only the general word with its kunyomi called mōkeru (mo-o-ke-loo) but also various versions with its onyomi for specific situations requiring you to learn different ways to say “establish.” It would be much easier if the Japanese only used the single word mōkeru based on the Japanese reading, but I think the culture of being hyper-detailed makes them want to use more specific words together with the onyomi.
Let’s see how Yuzo demonstrates what I mean here by combing the word “establish” with other words to create more specific uses:
Wall Five: Habits and Customs
Chip 18: The Origin of Shabushabu
In addition to writing foreign words, katakana (and in some cases hiragana) is often used for writing Japanese onomatopoeia known as gion-go (gee-o-n-go), comprising an endless list of descriptive words of everything from being lazy to the weather. Unfortunately, most onomatopoeia do not make sense and only the Japanese can truly use it correctly. I usually find them difficult to remember because it can be quite tricky to connect the onomatopoeia to the actual subjects they describe.
Most of the onomatopoeia I learned was from listening to my sensei describe my movement or attitude in karate training. If I was not jumping fast enough when we were training with our jump ropes he would describe my feet as “heavy” and would scream batabata (ba-ta-ba-ta), an onomatopoeia describing the heavy sound of my feet hitting the mat. If I was not putting in a 100% effort, he would say I was being daradara (da-la-da-la) and needed to concentrate harder and move faster. Once I learned the meaning of these onomatopoeia, I was able to respond and improve, but it took some time for me to understand them because in my mind, the sounds did not have any obvious connection to the meaning.
Onomatopoeia
I found that onomatopoeia related to the weather and food were the easiest to remember – and perhaps the most important. If you are visiting Japan during the summer season you will most likely experience high levels of humidity from the moment you step out of the airport, which is described by the word jimejime (jee-me-jee-me). Alternatively, if you come in the winter months you would describe the dry air as karatto (ka-la_to).
Crispy foods such as tempura are described as sakusaku (sa-koo-sa-koo). Even the Japanese hot pot dish shabu-shabu is named after the sound created when one swishes thin slices of tender meat back and forth in the hot pot. Although many Japanese onomatopoeias are extremely confusing, there are some that are easy to understand and fun to use. For example, if you want someone to microwave some food, you would ask them to chin (chee-n) the food – described as such using an onomatopoeia for the sound a microwave makes when your food is ready. Let’s explore some other commonly used Japanese onomatopoeia below:
Grinning
Soaked
I'm Stuffed
Glittery
Chip 19: I’m Not a Hispanic Woman
In Japan, a Japanese person’s last name is written first and their first name is written last, while a foreigner’s name is written the Western way with the first name first and last name last. I believe that the Japanese tried to write the names of foreigners in the Western way because that is how foreigners introduced themselves when first arriving in Japan after hundreds of years of isolation starting at the end of the Edo Period in 1854.
Although the Japanese learn in junior high school to write a foreigner person’s name the Western way, many forget this fact and often mistaken a foreigner’s first name as their last and their last name as their first. For example, my first name is Owen and last name is Rosa, but 99% of Japanese people call me Owen-san instead of calling me Rosa-san because I write my name as “Owen Rosa” in katakana. People sometimes tell me that Owen is easier to pronounce in Japanese (but I think they are just saying that when they realize it was rude to call me by my first name). This often becomes a problem for me because people mistake me for being a Hispanic woman named Rosa (a common name for Hispanic women) rather than a white male. I was once invited to interview for a women’s cosmetic company in Japan because they thought I was a foreign woman living in Japan and that it would be a good marketing strategy to have a “beautiful” foreign woman as a salesperson. I can always tell when someone is expecting a woman by the surprised expression on their face when I walk into the room.
I'm Owen not Rosa
Chip 20: I Hate Valentine’s Day
The previous topic discussed how a foreign person’s name is often written in the reversed order to that of a Japanese person. Did you know that there are some foreign customs that also have completely opposite meanings compared to the West? My favorite example is Valentine’s Day.
Valentine’s Day, written in katakana as Barentain dē (ba-le-n-ta-ee-n de-e), in Japan is a day when the women give men chocolate, followed exactly one month later by “White Day” on March 14 th when the men give women chocolate. Creating two separate holidays was apparently a marketing strategy by chocolate companies to increase sales, but I think the truth is that Japanese men want to first confirm they receive chocolate before giving any women chocolate due to some insecurity issues. Moreover, Japanese people do not only give chocolate to their sweethearts but also to people whom they have no romantic feelings towards such as colleagues and friends. With this in mind, it would be embarrassing for men to give chocolate first and then not receive anything in return the following month. This kind of gift is called giri choko (gee-lee cho-ko), a word combining the Japanese word giri (gee-lee) meaning “obligation” and the Japanese-English word for chocolate called choko
