I recently was reading a gaming article, and was surprised that it was even being presented as serious.
It also reminded me of a person's comment about my blog from a forum that can be rather hostile:
"the blog seems to engage in the unfortunate stereotyping of westerners wholly ignorant about japan. anyone who reads the economist and has a passing familiarity with books realizes that japan is a modern, westernized economy. sans kimonos and kamakazi."
While I don't really think that's the point of my blog or an accurate portrayal of the blog, I took it that maybe he was right and people know a bit more about Japan than I think. Or maybe he's just overly optimistic. So then I found this article on one of the top mainstream gaming sites:
http://www.1up.com/do/feature?cId=3155815
Drawing on the opinions of many in the industry (as well as the author's opinions), this article pretty much depresses the hell out of me. The photos included - American videogame screenshots and Japanese traditional kimono and kabuki theatre, what the hell is this? I'll just take a look at one paragraph on America compared with one for Japan, at least for now.
"Americans are very big on personal freedom, which give a greater sense of individuality."
OK, what? Is this "everyone except Americans hates freedom?" Japanese lack individuality? If Japan is lacking individuality then why is a large portion of America's mind-space taken up with Japanese output (films, videogame consoles, anime, manga, foods, cosplay, almost the entire "retro" scene today is about cartoons made in Japan and videogames made in Japan)?
"Americans all have their own political or religious beliefs, and defend them vigorously."
Some might say this is for the worse.
"Americans love their cars, because it affords us opportunities for independence that public transportation can't afford."
More like because the US is too wide spread for a person to even survive, so they have to buy a car, and then they're told that choosing a car shows their personality and gives them individuality? There's plenty of non-city areas in Japan where people love driving, too, and especially girls like to select cute cars and dress them up to the point where their dashboard looks like an exotic flower greenhouse and their rear window is a collection of giant cute plush animals. Public transportation implies a lack of independence? Then I guess the inhabitants of LA, NYC and so on are somehow more Japanese.
"Americans love commercial competition, because it feeds capitalism and innovation."
Then why does it seem that Japan, with its less competitive style of business, is acting as a more efficient capitalist country than the US? And innovation? Japan is not innovative? I think the author of this article has been sleepwalking, somehow his eyes ignoring every bit of Japanese innovation that surrounds his life.
"America is a country that fought for its independence primarily to grant these kind of freedoms, a nation famous for its frontier mentality. Naturally, Americans love freedom in their games, too."
Well, freedom isn't free, remember that. I don't know. This almost seems like it was written by George W. Bush. Freedom, independence, commercial competition, individuality are all traits exclusive to America. If we were to read this article and create an "opposite" one, it would read like this:
"Japan is a country that never fought for its independence. Because of this, it was never able to win any of the freedoms talked about in this article. Japan lacks an innovative frontier mentality. Japan doesn't like freedom in their games, either."
What?
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Crazy Taxi
In homage to one of my favorite dreamcast games (soon ported to PSP), I'll continue the Japanese language talk.
I sometimes take a taxi home from work. It's expensive, but not that expensive because I live sort of close to work. But there is something of an executive upper class feeling to taking it home. You don't have to walk to the station, you don't have to wait for the train, be packed in with 1000 people, get out and walk up stairs and down stairs and wait for a change of trains, you don't have to walk up 5 flights of stairs to get out of the subway, all that sort of thing.
In fact, you can just sit in a nice small place all to yourself, and check your mail, make some calls, look at all the buildings and people around you. It's a small treat. So I've taken to it.
On a number of my taxi rides home I've been in conversations with the taxi drivers. It takes maybe 15 or 20 minutes to drive near my place, so there's ample time for conversation. I'll sort the ride conversations from worst to best.
1) I tell the driver where to go and I end up there. Not so interesting at all, and because of traffic sometimes it's an expensive uninteresting experience.
2) The driver doesn't have GPS and asks me every road to take. I get to use my Japanese and my subpar navigation skills (if only we were walking, that one-way sign wouldn't have mattered!)
3) The driver makes a comment praising my Japanese or makes some small comments along the way "today's crowded isn't it" etc.
*TIME OUT* All of the time you get comments that your Japanese is good. Commenting strangers is a Japanese way. I was out one night in Gunma on my arrival in Japan and a Japanese salaryman kept looking back at me, out of fear or curiosity, and to alleave the stress I just say good evening to him (konbanwa). He said "You're so good at Japanese." It's the standard remark. It doesn't mean anything, they're just trying to be nice. How could someone's language ability be marked as good or skilled or whatever just by being able to say "hi" ? So anyway.
4) The conversation starts with the driver praising my Japanese and then we engage in conversation for the whole trip. That's nice.
5) I once received a few sincere comments about my Japanese from a driver and it made me feel happy. Similar to the last post about talking on the phone, he gave me the usual "you're japanese is good" but then went on to talk about how my speaking was very easy to understand (not the usual foreigner accent) and I spoke like a Japanese person and so on. It was much better than a lot of other situations I've been in here, and well, it's only happened once, so it gets the #5 in this list for best ranking.
I've also taken cabs with drivers with very good english. I don't usually try to fight with them about language, I'm sure they need English conversation opportunities more than I need Japanese ones.
I recently read a Japanese essay from Murakami Haruki where he talks about meeting a friend that can tell where a cab driver is from by the way that they talk to you as a customer passenger. I can't remember the locations now so I'll have to re-read the essay, but it basically came down to the 'friendly talkative ones' being from someplace, and the opposite type being from inside Tokyo itself.
I'm going to try to find out from now on where the drivers I meet with are from, to see if I can tell if it's a regional thing or not.
I sometimes take a taxi home from work. It's expensive, but not that expensive because I live sort of close to work. But there is something of an executive upper class feeling to taking it home. You don't have to walk to the station, you don't have to wait for the train, be packed in with 1000 people, get out and walk up stairs and down stairs and wait for a change of trains, you don't have to walk up 5 flights of stairs to get out of the subway, all that sort of thing.
In fact, you can just sit in a nice small place all to yourself, and check your mail, make some calls, look at all the buildings and people around you. It's a small treat. So I've taken to it.
On a number of my taxi rides home I've been in conversations with the taxi drivers. It takes maybe 15 or 20 minutes to drive near my place, so there's ample time for conversation. I'll sort the ride conversations from worst to best.
1) I tell the driver where to go and I end up there. Not so interesting at all, and because of traffic sometimes it's an expensive uninteresting experience.
2) The driver doesn't have GPS and asks me every road to take. I get to use my Japanese and my subpar navigation skills (if only we were walking, that one-way sign wouldn't have mattered!)
3) The driver makes a comment praising my Japanese or makes some small comments along the way "today's crowded isn't it" etc.
*TIME OUT* All of the time you get comments that your Japanese is good. Commenting strangers is a Japanese way. I was out one night in Gunma on my arrival in Japan and a Japanese salaryman kept looking back at me, out of fear or curiosity, and to alleave the stress I just say good evening to him (konbanwa). He said "You're so good at Japanese." It's the standard remark. It doesn't mean anything, they're just trying to be nice. How could someone's language ability be marked as good or skilled or whatever just by being able to say "hi" ? So anyway.
4) The conversation starts with the driver praising my Japanese and then we engage in conversation for the whole trip. That's nice.
5) I once received a few sincere comments about my Japanese from a driver and it made me feel happy. Similar to the last post about talking on the phone, he gave me the usual "you're japanese is good" but then went on to talk about how my speaking was very easy to understand (not the usual foreigner accent) and I spoke like a Japanese person and so on. It was much better than a lot of other situations I've been in here, and well, it's only happened once, so it gets the #5 in this list for best ranking.
I've also taken cabs with drivers with very good english. I don't usually try to fight with them about language, I'm sure they need English conversation opportunities more than I need Japanese ones.
I recently read a Japanese essay from Murakami Haruki where he talks about meeting a friend that can tell where a cab driver is from by the way that they talk to you as a customer passenger. I can't remember the locations now so I'll have to re-read the essay, but it basically came down to the 'friendly talkative ones' being from someplace, and the opposite type being from inside Tokyo itself.
I'm going to try to find out from now on where the drivers I meet with are from, to see if I can tell if it's a regional thing or not.
Friday, January 19, 2007
That cursed word "fluent"
I recently saw another blog that had a lot of very short and somewhat interesting posts and links so I figured I'll try to emulate that style for awhile while my time is rather short.
So in my series of short blog posts (hey, I might even do this from my cellphone), we have...
#1 - that old adage that you're "fluent" when someone thinks you're a native on the phone.
I had to call my credit card company to deal with some problems, and I always dread telephone talking, because usually Japanese people talk in an insanely fast and very polite (an entirely different language from Japanese) way, and I can't make out physical cues, verbal cues, body language, I can't ask for it in writing, etc.
Anyway, after speaking to the woman about a bunch of financial stuff, we were having a rather in-depth Japanese discussion, she asked for my credit card number, and as soon as she pulled up the record and saw I was a foreigner, her talking completely changed. It was at that point that I realized I had tricked her into thinking I was Japanese from the start.
How did I realize? After pulling up the record, she tried to be very nice, she changed, she started to not use the "entirely different language from Japanese" polite forms (called "keigo"), in fact at times she used the keigo and then tried to express it in another more simple term.
"Goseinengappi" (your date of birth) became "Otanjoubi" (your birthday).
"Myouji to Yobina" (your family name and given name) became "furu ne-mu" (the Japanese pronunciation for "full name")
I did feel a sense of small accomplishment. See, contrary to many people, my main focus of study in Japanese so far has been on reading and writing. So while the SOME of the "conversation folk" (most speak Japanese in their native language pronunciation which is incredibly difficult for both me and Japanese people to understand), some of them might have pulled off this stunt very early in training, but it took a while for me.
However, I don't feel fluent to any extent whatsoever, at least according to the idea I laid out in the 5-part series below. It's a lot deeper than what it appears to be.
It involves public and private persona, the way that we are with ourselves alone or in public, and then the way that we talk to a friend or lover versus the way that we talk to our boss. Just because you can be understood in Japanese doesn't mean that your way of talking is acceptable, it's just entirely tolerated because you're "not Japanese" so "you don't know any better."
In other words, I think self-congratulations are very stupid when they're based on some arbitrary level of gaining some vaguely-defined term that is supposed to represent your ability.
So in my series of short blog posts (hey, I might even do this from my cellphone), we have...
#1 - that old adage that you're "fluent" when someone thinks you're a native on the phone.
I had to call my credit card company to deal with some problems, and I always dread telephone talking, because usually Japanese people talk in an insanely fast and very polite (an entirely different language from Japanese) way, and I can't make out physical cues, verbal cues, body language, I can't ask for it in writing, etc.
Anyway, after speaking to the woman about a bunch of financial stuff, we were having a rather in-depth Japanese discussion, she asked for my credit card number, and as soon as she pulled up the record and saw I was a foreigner, her talking completely changed. It was at that point that I realized I had tricked her into thinking I was Japanese from the start.
How did I realize? After pulling up the record, she tried to be very nice, she changed, she started to not use the "entirely different language from Japanese" polite forms (called "keigo"), in fact at times she used the keigo and then tried to express it in another more simple term.
"Goseinengappi" (your date of birth) became "Otanjoubi" (your birthday).
"Myouji to Yobina" (your family name and given name) became "furu ne-mu" (the Japanese pronunciation for "full name")
I did feel a sense of small accomplishment. See, contrary to many people, my main focus of study in Japanese so far has been on reading and writing. So while the SOME of the "conversation folk" (most speak Japanese in their native language pronunciation which is incredibly difficult for both me and Japanese people to understand), some of them might have pulled off this stunt very early in training, but it took a while for me.
However, I don't feel fluent to any extent whatsoever, at least according to the idea I laid out in the 5-part series below. It's a lot deeper than what it appears to be.
It involves public and private persona, the way that we are with ourselves alone or in public, and then the way that we talk to a friend or lover versus the way that we talk to our boss. Just because you can be understood in Japanese doesn't mean that your way of talking is acceptable, it's just entirely tolerated because you're "not Japanese" so "you don't know any better."
In other words, I think self-congratulations are very stupid when they're based on some arbitrary level of gaining some vaguely-defined term that is supposed to represent your ability.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Part 5 - Japan Culture - Missing Out 2
(Please continue reading from Part 1 below if you have time)
What does a word mean?
Continuing from "Missing Out 1," I'm going to look at a four-kanji combination. The technical details about kanji are finished, so you can put away your kanji practice pads. I think this should show a deeper relationship between the written language and the culture.
"Isshokenmei" is a very common word in Japanese. If you watch TV for a day, you'll probably here it 5 or 10 or more times. After a year of living in Japan, a person who has only "picked up" the language may be using the word every day, or even more likely, hearing it at least once a day.
For a person that just picked up Japanese, our Jack Nova again, they might have heard the word and asked a bilingual Japanese friend, "What does 'isshokenmei' mean?" Their friend might have said "it means to try really hard." Japanese people love the idea of trying really hard.
Of course, that's a bit vague. It's almost like summing up the first manned mission to the moon as "a long trip."
Jack Nova might have even gone further and looked it up in a dictionary where it says "(adj-na,n) (1) very hard, with utmost effort, with all one's might, desperately, frantically, for dear life, all-out effort." That gives us a little bit more of an idea of what it means - the manned mission to the moon has switched from "a long trip" to "a ship went to space."
Let's look at the kanji (don't worry, this is going to be summed up pretty quickly):
The first kanji (on the left) means "one." You may laugh at the simplicity. The next kanji means "place" as in a place to go, the place where you live, tokyo is a place, a park is a place. Together, these two kanji mean what? "one place." Very simple.
Kanji 3, it looks scary, doesn't it. Its meaning is pretty easy though - it means "hang" as in "my job hangs on whether or not I can understand what chuukai means." And finally kanji 4 means "life" or "fate." So with 3 and 4 together we have "hang fate." These two mean what it seems - "at the risk of one's life" - your fate hangs on it.
So if we put all four together, "isshokenmei" means something like "at the risk of one's life at one place." We can see how this would mean something like "to try really hard." So as a person who understands some written language, basic kanji and readings and meanings, we've gotten a bit further into the meaning of the language, and that brings us closer to the culture. Now, the manned mission to the moon has switched from "a ship went to space" to "The US, under the Project Apollo (Apollo 11), sent three men to and from the moon in a ship for the first time in 1969." But is that the whole story? What did the whole thing mean for mankind? What discoveries were made? What were the crewmembers' names? What technological hurdles were overcome? So is that the end of the story?
Why were these four kanji chosen? "one place" "at the risk of one's life"... It seems sort of vague. Well, there's more to it.
In medieval Japan, samurai served landowners. As the landowners became more powerful by taking more land through conquest, they would become shogun. The samurai would inherit land in this way. This inherited land was considered equal to their life, something they needed to protect with all of their power. It would be the one place on which they would risk their life.
So when you use a word that you simply heard and equate with "try really hard," you're using a description of the life of feudal samurai from 700 years ago as they protect their land at the risk of their lives, all of the historical events and imagery of that time, the way of thinking of the Japanese throughout centuries, and a lot of principles (bushido, buddhism, shintoism, etc.) that still apply to today's culture of Japan.
What does a word mean?
Continuing from "Missing Out 1," I'm going to look at a four-kanji combination. The technical details about kanji are finished, so you can put away your kanji practice pads. I think this should show a deeper relationship between the written language and the culture.
"Isshokenmei" is a very common word in Japanese. If you watch TV for a day, you'll probably here it 5 or 10 or more times. After a year of living in Japan, a person who has only "picked up" the language may be using the word every day, or even more likely, hearing it at least once a day.
For a person that just picked up Japanese, our Jack Nova again, they might have heard the word and asked a bilingual Japanese friend, "What does 'isshokenmei' mean?" Their friend might have said "it means to try really hard." Japanese people love the idea of trying really hard.
Of course, that's a bit vague. It's almost like summing up the first manned mission to the moon as "a long trip."
Jack Nova might have even gone further and looked it up in a dictionary where it says "(adj-na,n) (1) very hard, with utmost effort, with all one's might, desperately, frantically, for dear life, all-out effort." That gives us a little bit more of an idea of what it means - the manned mission to the moon has switched from "a long trip" to "a ship went to space."
Let's look at the kanji (don't worry, this is going to be summed up pretty quickly):
The first kanji (on the left) means "one." You may laugh at the simplicity. The next kanji means "place" as in a place to go, the place where you live, tokyo is a place, a park is a place. Together, these two kanji mean what? "one place." Very simple.
Kanji 3, it looks scary, doesn't it. Its meaning is pretty easy though - it means "hang" as in "my job hangs on whether or not I can understand what chuukai means." And finally kanji 4 means "life" or "fate." So with 3 and 4 together we have "hang fate." These two mean what it seems - "at the risk of one's life" - your fate hangs on it.
So if we put all four together, "isshokenmei" means something like "at the risk of one's life at one place." We can see how this would mean something like "to try really hard." So as a person who understands some written language, basic kanji and readings and meanings, we've gotten a bit further into the meaning of the language, and that brings us closer to the culture. Now, the manned mission to the moon has switched from "a ship went to space" to "The US, under the Project Apollo (Apollo 11), sent three men to and from the moon in a ship for the first time in 1969." But is that the whole story? What did the whole thing mean for mankind? What discoveries were made? What were the crewmembers' names? What technological hurdles were overcome? So is that the end of the story?
Why were these four kanji chosen? "one place" "at the risk of one's life"... It seems sort of vague. Well, there's more to it.
In medieval Japan, samurai served landowners. As the landowners became more powerful by taking more land through conquest, they would become shogun. The samurai would inherit land in this way. This inherited land was considered equal to their life, something they needed to protect with all of their power. It would be the one place on which they would risk their life.
So when you use a word that you simply heard and equate with "try really hard," you're using a description of the life of feudal samurai from 700 years ago as they protect their land at the risk of their lives, all of the historical events and imagery of that time, the way of thinking of the Japanese throughout centuries, and a lot of principles (bushido, buddhism, shintoism, etc.) that still apply to today's culture of Japan.
(Part 4) Japan Culture - Missing Out 1
(Please continue reading from Part 1 below if you have time)
There are a lot of Japanese characters in this post, but don't worry, I'm not trying to make you learn Japanese. It should be easy enough to understand for anyone.
I'm going to start out with some of the more trivial things a person studying Japanese language and culture (or just living in Japan) misses out on by not knowing the written language at the pprc (see previous posts) level (or by not knowing it at all). The next part (Part 5) should have a big example among thousands that shows that without the written language, you won't be getting far into understanding the culture at all.
The main Japanese characters (called "Kanji" from now on) each have their own meanings and readings (pronunciation). A single kanji's meaning is usually very broad and encompassing. To create a word with a more specific pinpointed meaning, you combine the kanji characters together. For example, there is a kanji that means "meet" or "meeting." It involves all kinds of meeting, at all levels, any way in which you can think of two people or things or ideas "meeting." If you add this to a kanji meaning "go out," it narrows the meaning to a "rendezvous" or if you add this to a kanji meaning "deliberation," it narrows the meaning to a "conference."
The majority of combinations in Japanese are two kanji put together. Three-kanji combinations aren't rare but are usually for very specific fields (a single kanji is vague and encompassing, together 2 get more specific, together 3 get even more specific) to make a big generalization. Four-kanji combinations are special, usually dealing with a sort of proverbial meaning.
Missing Out:
So, let's imagine a person doesn't understand the written language, and has just "picked up" conversational ability by living in Japan. We'll call him Jack Nova. Jack's Japanese boss tells him that a "CHUUKAI" is necessary for him to keep his job. Unfortunately, Jack hasn't heard this word before. If his boss writes it down, he won't understand. His boss is busy and isn't going to try to explain what the term means. Looks like Jack is going to lose his job.
Let's take a look at what this "chuukai" is. It is written with the two kanji below (chuu and kai):
Let's look at the first kanji (the one on the left). It has a person standing at the left (the long body with a head), and a vertical line with a square in the center at the right. This is only one kanji, but it's a combination of the pieces of two other kanji to form this kanji. So, as you can see, not only are kanji combined to make more meanings, but pieces of kanji might be added to create more specific meanings in a single kanji. So let's break the first kanji down. The left part obviously means "person" and the right part? the square is in the middle of the vertical line, so the right part means "middle." Below are the two kanji from which this kanji (chuu) comes. Note that the shape of "person" changes a bit, but it's basically the same:
I think you can see now how that first kanji of "chuukai" was made, and why the parts would mean "person" and "middle." The right part meaning "middle" is considered the dominant part of this kanji, so the kanji is pronounced the same as "middle" (chuu). The following kanji are all pronounced "chuu" because of this dominant part of the kanji:
If you haven't guessed already, the meaning for this kanji (with "person" on left and "middle" on the right) is most easily put as "middle-man."
Now, to quickly look at the second kanji of "chuukai" - there are two vertical lines at the bottom and a sort of umbrella at the top. So you could say the meaning has to do with "two things under one umbrella." Or you could picture it as the two things at the bottom merging into one thing at the top. This kanji means "to jam in" "crammed in" or "mediate." It is a sense that I think is displayed pretty well by the image of the kanji itself. Whenever this kanji is seen, it is pronounced "kai" hence we have our word "chuukai." Again you can see below, all of the following kanji have this part in them, and all are pronounced kai:
So, if our Jack Nova had known how to read kanji, he would've had many hints as to what "chuukai" means. And if you haven't guessed, it means "INTERMEDIATION" or a sort of agency of middlemanning or go-between. To get this from kanji meaning "middleman" and "mediate," I think it's a rather easy step.
1) The kanji themselves as images demonstrate meaning. If his boss had written the kanji, he might have been able to piece together the meaning from the images. For an English speaker, this is like knowing Latin - so that when you hear a new word like "incorporation," you would know "corpor" comes from the Latin "corpus" (meaning body), "in" obviously means "enter" or "insert" or similar, and the "ation" at the end is an action - so this is an action of something entering a body.
2) If he had memorized kanji, upon hearing "chuukai" he could've tried piecing together different kanji he knew that were pronounced "chuu" and "kai." This is because the kanji also give hints as to the pronunciation.
3) As a person only knowing the spoken language, there is no reference as to why "chuukai" is called "chuukai." That is, why does a word pronounced "CHUUKAI" mean "INTERMEDIATION?" Seeing the kanji, there is a reason for the pronunciation to be that way and there is a reason for it to mean what it means. The meaning and pronunciation are linked.
So, obviously knowing the written language gives a lot of clues about the language in general. Not only is it handy to know, it is essential in terms of understanding Japan. When you think of a word, sure you think of the meaning and how to say it and so on, but in Japan you have these concrete images - a man in the middle, two pieces moving to form one - if you think about words like this, with pictures, it's a clue into another way of thinking.
Next, in Part 5, I'll look at a 4-kanji combination to show more depth as to what's being missed out on.
There are a lot of Japanese characters in this post, but don't worry, I'm not trying to make you learn Japanese. It should be easy enough to understand for anyone.
I'm going to start out with some of the more trivial things a person studying Japanese language and culture (or just living in Japan) misses out on by not knowing the written language at the pprc (see previous posts) level (or by not knowing it at all). The next part (Part 5) should have a big example among thousands that shows that without the written language, you won't be getting far into understanding the culture at all.
The main Japanese characters (called "Kanji" from now on) each have their own meanings and readings (pronunciation). A single kanji's meaning is usually very broad and encompassing. To create a word with a more specific pinpointed meaning, you combine the kanji characters together. For example, there is a kanji that means "meet" or "meeting." It involves all kinds of meeting, at all levels, any way in which you can think of two people or things or ideas "meeting." If you add this to a kanji meaning "go out," it narrows the meaning to a "rendezvous" or if you add this to a kanji meaning "deliberation," it narrows the meaning to a "conference."
The majority of combinations in Japanese are two kanji put together. Three-kanji combinations aren't rare but are usually for very specific fields (a single kanji is vague and encompassing, together 2 get more specific, together 3 get even more specific) to make a big generalization. Four-kanji combinations are special, usually dealing with a sort of proverbial meaning.
Missing Out:
So, let's imagine a person doesn't understand the written language, and has just "picked up" conversational ability by living in Japan. We'll call him Jack Nova. Jack's Japanese boss tells him that a "CHUUKAI" is necessary for him to keep his job. Unfortunately, Jack hasn't heard this word before. If his boss writes it down, he won't understand. His boss is busy and isn't going to try to explain what the term means. Looks like Jack is going to lose his job.
Let's take a look at what this "chuukai" is. It is written with the two kanji below (chuu and kai):
Let's look at the first kanji (the one on the left). It has a person standing at the left (the long body with a head), and a vertical line with a square in the center at the right. This is only one kanji, but it's a combination of the pieces of two other kanji to form this kanji. So, as you can see, not only are kanji combined to make more meanings, but pieces of kanji might be added to create more specific meanings in a single kanji. So let's break the first kanji down. The left part obviously means "person" and the right part? the square is in the middle of the vertical line, so the right part means "middle." Below are the two kanji from which this kanji (chuu) comes. Note that the shape of "person" changes a bit, but it's basically the same:
I think you can see now how that first kanji of "chuukai" was made, and why the parts would mean "person" and "middle." The right part meaning "middle" is considered the dominant part of this kanji, so the kanji is pronounced the same as "middle" (chuu). The following kanji are all pronounced "chuu" because of this dominant part of the kanji:
If you haven't guessed already, the meaning for this kanji (with "person" on left and "middle" on the right) is most easily put as "middle-man."
Now, to quickly look at the second kanji of "chuukai" - there are two vertical lines at the bottom and a sort of umbrella at the top. So you could say the meaning has to do with "two things under one umbrella." Or you could picture it as the two things at the bottom merging into one thing at the top. This kanji means "to jam in" "crammed in" or "mediate." It is a sense that I think is displayed pretty well by the image of the kanji itself. Whenever this kanji is seen, it is pronounced "kai" hence we have our word "chuukai." Again you can see below, all of the following kanji have this part in them, and all are pronounced kai:
So, if our Jack Nova had known how to read kanji, he would've had many hints as to what "chuukai" means. And if you haven't guessed, it means "INTERMEDIATION" or a sort of agency of middlemanning or go-between. To get this from kanji meaning "middleman" and "mediate," I think it's a rather easy step.
1) The kanji themselves as images demonstrate meaning. If his boss had written the kanji, he might have been able to piece together the meaning from the images. For an English speaker, this is like knowing Latin - so that when you hear a new word like "incorporation," you would know "corpor" comes from the Latin "corpus" (meaning body), "in" obviously means "enter" or "insert" or similar, and the "ation" at the end is an action - so this is an action of something entering a body.
2) If he had memorized kanji, upon hearing "chuukai" he could've tried piecing together different kanji he knew that were pronounced "chuu" and "kai." This is because the kanji also give hints as to the pronunciation.
3) As a person only knowing the spoken language, there is no reference as to why "chuukai" is called "chuukai." That is, why does a word pronounced "CHUUKAI" mean "INTERMEDIATION?" Seeing the kanji, there is a reason for the pronunciation to be that way and there is a reason for it to mean what it means. The meaning and pronunciation are linked.
So, obviously knowing the written language gives a lot of clues about the language in general. Not only is it handy to know, it is essential in terms of understanding Japan. When you think of a word, sure you think of the meaning and how to say it and so on, but in Japan you have these concrete images - a man in the middle, two pieces moving to form one - if you think about words like this, with pictures, it's a clue into another way of thinking.
Next, in Part 5, I'll look at a 4-kanji combination to show more depth as to what's being missed out on.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
Japan Culture - No Language, No Meaning, Know Language, Know Meaning (Part 3)
(Please continue reading from Part 1 below if you have time)
If we take it that my pprc (see Part 2) level of language ability is a good starting point from which to start understanding the culture, well, then, I'd be very happy.
But let's take a look at what's missing from a person's understanding of Japan if they don't understand the 4 (body language was covered briefly in Part 2 so I'm leaving that out) basic parts of the language - speaking, listening, reading, writing.
From those 4, I'm dividing those into 2 respective groups "speaking/listening" and "reading/writing." This might seem obvious to do, but for people studying Japanese it really isn't. A guy or girl studying Japanese by listening to tapes might listen and comprehend but then talk with their own (nearly incomprehensible to Japanese people) English pronunciation. They might talk in dictionary talk (do we really say "I am going to the store" rather than "I'm goin totha store") or "anime-speak" (the weird, exaggerated and often rude way cartoon characters talk) without anyone to listen to them and correct it. A person might read the small easy portion of Japanese but not the larger more difficult portion (and yet not be able to write them - this involves remembering the order of pen strokes involved and so on). There are thousands of reasons to not divide these 4, but for sake of simplicity, we have the two groups of "speaking/listening" and "reading/writing." This is again going to be in 3 parts, the first two are easy and short, the 3rd is long:
1) If a person lacks all of these (both of these groups), I think it's hopeless to understand the culture (please see Part 1). Sorry to any lazy sociologists/anthropologists. As a note, having someone tell you what term "x" and term "y" mean in another language just doesn't cut it. For example, in a sociology textbook you might see - "giri" in Japanese refers to their social obligations to each other. It's entirely insufficient. Direct understanding of the language is necessary.
2) A person that can read and write Japanese but can't speak/listen to it. Well, plenty of bedroom students of Japanese might be able to relate to this (myself included), but it only presents problems in terms of flawless conversation. One might have to ask someone to repeat something a few times. One might not be understood by native speakers because of their awful pronunciation/accent. Obviously, being able to speak/listen to Japanese is essential to getting by in Japan. It's also obviously the easiest part of the language to learn.
For spoken/listening Japanese, you can almost just "pick it up" though that's an insanely lengthy process and full of pitholes. I met a cool Japanese guy many years ago before I studied Japanese and we were out in the cold and I asked him "this kinda temperature, what do you say in Japanese?" and he gave me the answer in Japanese. I expected it to mean "cold" but he basically said "it's unbelievably fucking cold." This is another big linguistic topic - how a word in one language truly meets up with a similar word in another language. A word may have bad connotations in one culture and good connotations in another, there are a million questions. So, ending that...
3) A person that can speak/listen to Japanese but can't read/write. This is big. Most people that come to Japan end up learning some conversation ability. They might even get to a level of being able to handle the day-to-day questions/answers and proclaim themselves fluent (not in pprc). I can't say all people, because I've met people here for near a decade that speak absolutely nothing. I don't look down on some of those people - they were just here for business. The others, those looking for a cultural experience by coming here, but getting stuck here because of a lack of job skills and talents and abilities, and yet still not learning the language of the country they live in, I do look down on, so sorry for them.
Now, to an English speaker, it does seem odd - why would reading/writing matter so much? The alphabet doesn't really have much to do with English except if you want to write down something. Even then, learning the 52 characters in the alphabet (yes upper and lower case, to a foreigner learning English could you tell them that 'e' and 'E' or 'q' and 'Q' are the same letter?) shouldn't take much time at all. But, it's very different in Japanese.
So what's missing? well if we forget about the basic syllable-way of writing Japanese, and focus on the ever prevalent and scary Kanji (maybe 5000 characters are in common use in Japan), I can give you a pretty good idea.
In the next part, (part 4), I'm going to use two words as examples. Every word is like this in Japanese, and once you see the examples, I think you'll understand more that pprc is essential to understanding Japanese Culture.
If we take it that my pprc (see Part 2) level of language ability is a good starting point from which to start understanding the culture, well, then, I'd be very happy.
But let's take a look at what's missing from a person's understanding of Japan if they don't understand the 4 (body language was covered briefly in Part 2 so I'm leaving that out) basic parts of the language - speaking, listening, reading, writing.
From those 4, I'm dividing those into 2 respective groups "speaking/listening" and "reading/writing." This might seem obvious to do, but for people studying Japanese it really isn't. A guy or girl studying Japanese by listening to tapes might listen and comprehend but then talk with their own (nearly incomprehensible to Japanese people) English pronunciation. They might talk in dictionary talk (do we really say "I am going to the store" rather than "I'm goin totha store") or "anime-speak" (the weird, exaggerated and often rude way cartoon characters talk) without anyone to listen to them and correct it. A person might read the small easy portion of Japanese but not the larger more difficult portion (and yet not be able to write them - this involves remembering the order of pen strokes involved and so on). There are thousands of reasons to not divide these 4, but for sake of simplicity, we have the two groups of "speaking/listening" and "reading/writing." This is again going to be in 3 parts, the first two are easy and short, the 3rd is long:
1) If a person lacks all of these (both of these groups), I think it's hopeless to understand the culture (please see Part 1). Sorry to any lazy sociologists/anthropologists. As a note, having someone tell you what term "x" and term "y" mean in another language just doesn't cut it. For example, in a sociology textbook you might see - "giri" in Japanese refers to their social obligations to each other. It's entirely insufficient. Direct understanding of the language is necessary.
2) A person that can read and write Japanese but can't speak/listen to it. Well, plenty of bedroom students of Japanese might be able to relate to this (myself included), but it only presents problems in terms of flawless conversation. One might have to ask someone to repeat something a few times. One might not be understood by native speakers because of their awful pronunciation/accent. Obviously, being able to speak/listen to Japanese is essential to getting by in Japan. It's also obviously the easiest part of the language to learn.
For spoken/listening Japanese, you can almost just "pick it up" though that's an insanely lengthy process and full of pitholes. I met a cool Japanese guy many years ago before I studied Japanese and we were out in the cold and I asked him "this kinda temperature, what do you say in Japanese?" and he gave me the answer in Japanese. I expected it to mean "cold" but he basically said "it's unbelievably fucking cold." This is another big linguistic topic - how a word in one language truly meets up with a similar word in another language. A word may have bad connotations in one culture and good connotations in another, there are a million questions. So, ending that...
3) A person that can speak/listen to Japanese but can't read/write. This is big. Most people that come to Japan end up learning some conversation ability. They might even get to a level of being able to handle the day-to-day questions/answers and proclaim themselves fluent (not in pprc). I can't say all people, because I've met people here for near a decade that speak absolutely nothing. I don't look down on some of those people - they were just here for business. The others, those looking for a cultural experience by coming here, but getting stuck here because of a lack of job skills and talents and abilities, and yet still not learning the language of the country they live in, I do look down on, so sorry for them.
Now, to an English speaker, it does seem odd - why would reading/writing matter so much? The alphabet doesn't really have much to do with English except if you want to write down something. Even then, learning the 52 characters in the alphabet (yes upper and lower case, to a foreigner learning English could you tell them that 'e' and 'E' or 'q' and 'Q' are the same letter?) shouldn't take much time at all. But, it's very different in Japanese.
So what's missing? well if we forget about the basic syllable-way of writing Japanese, and focus on the ever prevalent and scary Kanji (maybe 5000 characters are in common use in Japan), I can give you a pretty good idea.
In the next part, (part 4), I'm going to use two words as examples. Every word is like this in Japanese, and once you see the examples, I think you'll understand more that pprc is essential to understanding Japanese Culture.
Japan Culture - Are you Fluent? (Part 2)
(Please continue reading from Part 1 below if you have time)
If you are going to understand a culture, and culture and language are entirely intertwined, it would then make sense to understand the language. Language shapes a large part of our understanding of everything, so this makes sense. If you do not understand the language of a culture, how much can you possibly know about that culture? Then, as you start to gain proficiency in the language, how much is enough?
The word "fluent" in English is probably one of the most contested as far as meaning goes. Just check out an internet forum about language learning if you want to see hundreds of pages of argument on it. It is an argument I am not going to get into. Instead, I'm going to quickly show why it is such a vague term (especially concerning Japanese).
Many people point to the following dictionary definition. I'm going to analyze a bit of it with 3 questions.
"Fluent - Able to express oneself readily and effortlessly"
1) "Able to express oneself readily and effortlessly" Would this include body language? In Brazil and other regions, the "OK" sign in America (making a circle with the thumb and forefinger) is basically challenging someone to a fight (symbolizing the butthole).
I have a friend who was lost and looking for help in Japan. He didn't speak Japanese. He started approaching a Japanese woman to help him. She was waving to him. It seemed to him like she was saying "yes, come on, I'll help you." But in Japan, the waving meant "no , no , I don't speak English. don't come here." The misunderstanding was so big, I mean picture it, each moment he's getting closer, and each moment she's waving harder and harder. She finally ran away when he got too close.
2) "Able to express oneself readily and effortlessly" On what topic? In day-to-day use, anyone can get by in a language with the basics (understanding the question the store clerk asks, yes and no, the basics. What if your hobby is music? How do you explain tone, tuning, scales, chords, etc.? If you are dealing with such a specific group of terms (one that comes naturally in your native language), does this fall under the cloud of "expressing oneself?" If you speak a foreign language, ask yourself about this. Could you explain and hold a conversation with someone in that foreign language about the things that interest you most? Wouldn't the things that interest you most be part of "expressing oneself?" Or is that too personal?
3) "Able to express oneself readily and effortlessly" Besides body language, does this also include speaking, listening, reading and writing? I've met many people here in Japan that can speak and listen very well but can't read/write at all. If they can read/write, it's the basic syllabary (alphabet consisting of syllables) (about 80 characters) as opposed to the Kanji (thousands of characters). If you can speak extremely well, are you fluent, even if you don't read and write to a similar degree? This will be the crux of part 3!
As you can probably see, it's a difficult definition, and it's a difficult word. I've heard people study for a few weeks proclaim fluency, I've had people say "you've been in Japan a few months, you must be fluent!" and I've had people say "you aren't fluent until you're mistaken for a native on the phone." There are a lot more claims and questions and levels and tests. It's complicated.
Then, above "fluent" we have "native." So, if you hold "native" up to a very high level, what is the difference between "fluent level" and "native level" language ability? It is all grey area, isn't it.
"Native" seems to make sense to me more clearly (you were raised from birth speaking it, or you raised yourself to that level - whether this second case exists is up for discussion, but anyway).
In Japanese, "perapera" is a word (onomatopoeia) that you can imagine sounding like a foreigner speaking some language that you don't understand. It's a sort of fast sound like the person and just blabbing away in something you don't understand. This word is used to mean fluency in the spoken realm. Speaking would also entail listening, so it's basically a term for being "fluent" (whatever that means) in conversation and so on. There are a few other words for fluency, but adding "ryuuchou" to the end of "perapera" seems to mean someone that can speak, listen, read and write a language at a "fluent" (whatever that means) level. So, to make things a bit more simple, I'm going to use "peraperaryuuchou" ("pprc" for short) to mean what my personal belief in "fluency" is - near-native use of a language in _all_ of the basic ways in which you can express yourself - body language, speaking, reading, listening, writing.
And it is this peraperaryuuchou that I think is required to start really learning about a culture (and especially Japan). Next, part 3.
If you are going to understand a culture, and culture and language are entirely intertwined, it would then make sense to understand the language. Language shapes a large part of our understanding of everything, so this makes sense. If you do not understand the language of a culture, how much can you possibly know about that culture? Then, as you start to gain proficiency in the language, how much is enough?
The word "fluent" in English is probably one of the most contested as far as meaning goes. Just check out an internet forum about language learning if you want to see hundreds of pages of argument on it. It is an argument I am not going to get into. Instead, I'm going to quickly show why it is such a vague term (especially concerning Japanese).
Many people point to the following dictionary definition. I'm going to analyze a bit of it with 3 questions.
"Fluent - Able to express oneself readily and effortlessly"
1) "Able to express oneself readily and effortlessly" Would this include body language? In Brazil and other regions, the "OK" sign in America (making a circle with the thumb and forefinger) is basically challenging someone to a fight (symbolizing the butthole).
I have a friend who was lost and looking for help in Japan. He didn't speak Japanese. He started approaching a Japanese woman to help him. She was waving to him. It seemed to him like she was saying "yes, come on, I'll help you." But in Japan, the waving meant "no , no , I don't speak English. don't come here." The misunderstanding was so big, I mean picture it, each moment he's getting closer, and each moment she's waving harder and harder. She finally ran away when he got too close.
2) "Able to express oneself readily and effortlessly" On what topic? In day-to-day use, anyone can get by in a language with the basics (understanding the question the store clerk asks, yes and no, the basics. What if your hobby is music? How do you explain tone, tuning, scales, chords, etc.? If you are dealing with such a specific group of terms (one that comes naturally in your native language), does this fall under the cloud of "expressing oneself?" If you speak a foreign language, ask yourself about this. Could you explain and hold a conversation with someone in that foreign language about the things that interest you most? Wouldn't the things that interest you most be part of "expressing oneself?" Or is that too personal?
3) "Able to express oneself readily and effortlessly" Besides body language, does this also include speaking, listening, reading and writing? I've met many people here in Japan that can speak and listen very well but can't read/write at all. If they can read/write, it's the basic syllabary (alphabet consisting of syllables) (about 80 characters) as opposed to the Kanji (thousands of characters). If you can speak extremely well, are you fluent, even if you don't read and write to a similar degree? This will be the crux of part 3!
As you can probably see, it's a difficult definition, and it's a difficult word. I've heard people study for a few weeks proclaim fluency, I've had people say "you've been in Japan a few months, you must be fluent!" and I've had people say "you aren't fluent until you're mistaken for a native on the phone." There are a lot more claims and questions and levels and tests. It's complicated.
Then, above "fluent" we have "native." So, if you hold "native" up to a very high level, what is the difference between "fluent level" and "native level" language ability? It is all grey area, isn't it.
"Native" seems to make sense to me more clearly (you were raised from birth speaking it, or you raised yourself to that level - whether this second case exists is up for discussion, but anyway).
In Japanese, "perapera" is a word (onomatopoeia) that you can imagine sounding like a foreigner speaking some language that you don't understand. It's a sort of fast sound like the person and just blabbing away in something you don't understand. This word is used to mean fluency in the spoken realm. Speaking would also entail listening, so it's basically a term for being "fluent" (whatever that means) in conversation and so on. There are a few other words for fluency, but adding "ryuuchou" to the end of "perapera" seems to mean someone that can speak, listen, read and write a language at a "fluent" (whatever that means) level. So, to make things a bit more simple, I'm going to use "peraperaryuuchou" ("pprc" for short) to mean what my personal belief in "fluency" is - near-native use of a language in _all_ of the basic ways in which you can express yourself - body language, speaking, reading, listening, writing.
And it is this peraperaryuuchou that I think is required to start really learning about a culture (and especially Japan). Next, part 3.
Japan Culture - Language and Culture (Part 1)
Starting off a large series of posts on understanding Japan, I'd like to deal a little bit with what it means to understand the place in which you are living.
Probably most readers are in the country where they were born, speaking the native language, knowing all the cultural norms. Some others might be in a country they weren't born in, but the same language and same cultural norms. And some others might be in a country they weren't born in, but with the same language but different cultural norms, and then there is the group in which I find myself.
As I had quoted in a previous blog post, "Culture consists of ideals, values, and assumptions about life that guide specific behaviour." Most of those ideals, values and assumptions are communicated to each other through the language of the land, and the language itself forms certain ideals, values and assumptions.
You've all heard the (false) story about eskimos having 20 words for white and so on. But the point stands. There are cultures documented that have no future tense in their language (Japanese is arguably one of them). There are languages with no past tense (I've heard Chinese might be like this, but don't quote me).
Terence McKenna talked about a culture with no past or future tense in their language. Imagine how your world must entirely change, if the language you are brought up with is so different. It is not that they lack words for past and future. It is that their entire consciousness is focused on past and future as different phenomena than the minds of other languages would interpret it. (In the case of Japanese, present tense and future tense are generally spoken the same, but no one can tell the future, so usually something like "maybe" or "I plan to" is added).
English, on the other hand, is rich in tenses both past and future, and they're mixed to an amazing degree. Consider the sentence, "I was planning to take vacation, but I can't because my work project is unfinished and more important, so if I think about the future, I'll have taken a vacation when I have finished the project."
If you look at that sentence, we jump into the future tense (the time when the project is finished), then we jump past that, to when the project is already finished, then we jump before that to say that the vacation has been taken in the past (not in the past of the present but in the past of the future) and so on.
The effect this has on a native English speaker's mind is _huge_.
Imagine being at a restaurant and being torn between 2 dishes. You finally order dish 1. It comes and you taste it and it's awful. Think about that in English we might say something like "I should've ordered dish 2." This is a hypothetical past. Time doesn't move backwards, so you cannot order 2 (unless you have a big stomach in the present). "It would have been better if I had..." That time doesn't exist, it's just a structure created out of our language. As such, our understanding of time is really altered by our language (imagine a culture where the hypothetical past form doesn't exist - ideas like "regret" might not be thinkable to them). In fact that are a lot of languages and cultures that don't put as much emphasis on this hypothetical past form as native English speakers do. If you started speaking that language, do you think you might start thinking about such things less?
So, my point is, language and culture are entirely intertwined. I believe my post "The Other" gets into this a bit.
Probably most readers are in the country where they were born, speaking the native language, knowing all the cultural norms. Some others might be in a country they weren't born in, but the same language and same cultural norms. And some others might be in a country they weren't born in, but with the same language but different cultural norms, and then there is the group in which I find myself.
As I had quoted in a previous blog post, "Culture consists of ideals, values, and assumptions about life that guide specific behaviour." Most of those ideals, values and assumptions are communicated to each other through the language of the land, and the language itself forms certain ideals, values and assumptions.
You've all heard the (false) story about eskimos having 20 words for white and so on. But the point stands. There are cultures documented that have no future tense in their language (Japanese is arguably one of them). There are languages with no past tense (I've heard Chinese might be like this, but don't quote me).
Terence McKenna talked about a culture with no past or future tense in their language. Imagine how your world must entirely change, if the language you are brought up with is so different. It is not that they lack words for past and future. It is that their entire consciousness is focused on past and future as different phenomena than the minds of other languages would interpret it. (In the case of Japanese, present tense and future tense are generally spoken the same, but no one can tell the future, so usually something like "maybe" or "I plan to" is added).
English, on the other hand, is rich in tenses both past and future, and they're mixed to an amazing degree. Consider the sentence, "I was planning to take vacation, but I can't because my work project is unfinished and more important, so if I think about the future, I'll have taken a vacation when I have finished the project."
If you look at that sentence, we jump into the future tense (the time when the project is finished), then we jump past that, to when the project is already finished, then we jump before that to say that the vacation has been taken in the past (not in the past of the present but in the past of the future) and so on.
The effect this has on a native English speaker's mind is _huge_.
Imagine being at a restaurant and being torn between 2 dishes. You finally order dish 1. It comes and you taste it and it's awful. Think about that in English we might say something like "I should've ordered dish 2." This is a hypothetical past. Time doesn't move backwards, so you cannot order 2 (unless you have a big stomach in the present). "It would have been better if I had..." That time doesn't exist, it's just a structure created out of our language. As such, our understanding of time is really altered by our language (imagine a culture where the hypothetical past form doesn't exist - ideas like "regret" might not be thinkable to them). In fact that are a lot of languages and cultures that don't put as much emphasis on this hypothetical past form as native English speakers do. If you started speaking that language, do you think you might start thinking about such things less?
So, my point is, language and culture are entirely intertwined. I believe my post "The Other" gets into this a bit.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
"If You Listen"
I'm a big fan of Studio Ghibli, the Japanese animation house. I was very moved by this film from them (director Miyazaki Hayao) called "If You Listen." I decided to write some thoughts and philosophy about the film immediately after seeing it a few years back, and I thought it would fit well with the blog, so here it is. Quotes are translations from the movie and its sort of theme song (Country Road).
On Miyazaki's "Mimi o Sumaseba"
Title: The Path of Strength in Life: Parents, The Rock, Praise (Past, Present, Future & Urd, Verdandi, Skuld)
Song:
"No one is with me. Going fearlessly. /
That's the way I live in the dream I saw. /
I must put my loneliness away /
and protect myself and I'll learn to be strong. /
Country road, it'll take me /
back to my home town. /
I can feel it now, if I just keep to /
this far-off way, country road. /
It won't matter how lonely the times get /
you'll never see me cry. /
I'll keep my tears at bay. /
I know I must take heart /
and that hurrying is all I can do. /
Only that way, can I forget. /
Country road, it may take me /
back to my home town, but even so /
Steeling my heart, I will not go now /
Not while I'm free. /
Country road, come tomorrow./
So it's goodbye, country road."
Parents
(Shizuku, a grade-school girl has taken to task writing her first story to see if she has talent and ability. She is doing this while the boy she loves has gone away for two months to figure out the same thing, only in regard to violin-making. As a result, her grades in school have fallen dramatically. Her older sister, Shiho, takes advantage of the situation to ridicule her because she is jealous of her youthful, easy life.)
Conversation:
Father: "Shiho, I want to talk to Shizuku alone. Will you please wait outside?" (Shiho leaves)
Father (to Shizuku's mother): "Will you come in here too, dear?"(Shizuku's mother enters)
Father: "Alright, Shizuku... Is what you're doing now more important than your studies?" (Shizuku shakes her head 'yes')
Father: "Will you tell us what it is you're doing?"
Shizuku: "I'll tell you when it's time."
Mother: "Shizuku, is this something you have to do now?"
Shizuku: "But there's no time! I only have three more weeks to do it! I've decided to test myself during this time! I have to do it!"
Mother: "Test yourself on what? What are you testing?" (Silence) "We won't know if you don't tell us." (Silence) "You can't even tell your father or your mother?"
Father: "I've noticed that you're putting a lot of effort into something at the library. I can respect that. Should we let Shizuku do what she wants, dear? It's not as if there's only one way to live your life."
Mother: "Well, I've had times like this in my life, too."
Father: "Alright. Shizuku, you'll have to do as you believe. But, it'll be very tough to find your own way. If anything happens, you'll have no one to blame." (Shizuku shakes her head in agreement)
Mother: "And please be present when we're eating dinner."
Father: "That's right. You're part of the family."
Shizuku: "Okay." (Shizuku and Shiho return to their joint room)
Shiho: "Shizuku, Father just said 'Oh well' but I think he really wanted you to study more."
Shizuku: "I know that. I could see it written on his face!"
Parents should act as guardrails, not bulldozers or cattle wranglers. Her parents respect the work she's putting in, the fact that she is challenging herself, and they keep it to themselves as to what they want for her. They allow their opinions to be undermined because it is, after all, her life. How many parents, through voicing their opinion, are really trying to manipulate the child by planting
seeds which grow into ideas? She lets them know it is temporary (and does return to being studious afterwards) and there is care and understanding throughout the entire process (even with Shizuku so tightlipped about what she is spending all of her time doing). There is communication, but only from the viewpoint of doing what is right for the child. They put their own desires aside for this. Any other way of relating to the child will be stifling. You dampen creativity, grow spite for the child, have the child grow spite for you, and in the end, may be one of the leading influences in the ruining of a life.
The Rock
The shop owner says to Shizuku: "Take a look. This kind of rock is called mica-slate. Take a look inside that crack... It's beautiful. That's called beryl. It contains pieces of raw emeralds... You are like that rock. Like a natural, still unpolished stone. I happen to like things like that... You have to find the raw jewel inside and spend the time to polish and refine it. It's time-consuming work. Can you see that big raw jewel inside that rock? The truth is that if you polish and refine it You'll find that it won't look very good. The smaller ones deep inside are more pure. In fact, there may be even better jewels inside where you can't see them."
Shizuku responds, "I'm scared to find out whether there's anything this pretty inside myself."
It is true that what we really are is hidden and must be carved out, polished and refined. Instead what most do is to create artificial constructs around the natural rock so as to give it a smooth appearance, a personality, opinions, wants and desires, likes and dislikes, a front. Just like the pufferfish, it is an illusion. Unlike the pufferfish, both the audience and the illusionist may be tricked by the illusion. Sadly, the more deep one digs, the more one realizes you did not have to carve out a rock, but simply brush away the leaves (A reference to Hagakure, the book of the samurai, written by Tsunetomo. The title translates as "hidden/
obscured by leaves").
As Carl Jung stated. "Filling the conscious mind with ideal conceptions is a characteristic of Western theosophy, but not the confrontation with the shadow and the world of darkness. One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious... The task of midlife is not to look into the light, but to bring light into the darkness. The latter procedure, however, is disagreeable and therefore not popular."
The viking religion also holds a similar idea. From the sagas, "Urds bronn er ikke lenger et dunkelt dyg vi stirrer ned i, men en levende strom som gar befruktende gjennom Nordensland." - "Urd's well is no longer darkness that we look down into, but a living stream that runs throughout the lands of the North, giving life." Out of darkness comes light, that sort of thing I suppose.
Praise
You work for days, weeks, months (like Shizuku), or even years on something you'd like to offer to the world. You offer it first to someone whose opinion you respect, in order to get a real opinion outside of your (by now jaded and biased) view. After waiting anxiously for a response, they reply with true compliments, praise and surprise. You cry joyfully. You cry? Yes. Why does this nearly never happen?
Choegyam Trungpa (from Shambhala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior): "Warriorship here does not refer to making war on others. Aggression is the source of our problems, not the solution. Here the word "warrior" is taken from the Tibetan pawo,
which literally means "one who is brave... The Japanese ideal of the samurai also represented a warrior tradition of wisdom... The key to warriorship and the first principle of Shambhala vision is not being afraid of who you are. Ultimately, that is the definition of bravery: not being afraid of yourself... Shambhala vision is the opposite of selfishness. When we are afraid of ourselves, afraid of the seeming threat the world presents, then we become extremely selfish. We want to build our little nests, our own cocoons, so that we can live by ourselves in a secure way... The essence of warriorship, or the essence of human bravery, is refusing to give up on anyone or anything... You should examine yourself and ask how many times you have tried to connect with your heart, fully and truly. How often have you turned away, because you feared you might discover something terrible about yourself? How often have you been willing to look at your face in the mirror, without being embarassed? How many times have you tried to shield yourself by reading the newspaper, watching television, or just spacing out? That is the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question: how much have you connected with yourself at all in your whole life? Real fearlessness is the product of tenderness [as opposed to blocking anything from affecting you]. It comes from letting the world touch your heart, your raw and beautiful heart. You are willing to open up, without resistance or shyness, and face the world. You are willing to share your heart with others."
In the end, you are able to create and give something to humanity. Two things actually. The knowledge that someone like you has faith in humanity and a gift of creation or invention they can admire and experience through or use to better their lives. And who did you do it all for? Us.
On Miyazaki's "Mimi o Sumaseba"
Title: The Path of Strength in Life: Parents, The Rock, Praise (Past, Present, Future & Urd, Verdandi, Skuld)
Song:
"No one is with me. Going fearlessly. /
That's the way I live in the dream I saw. /
I must put my loneliness away /
and protect myself and I'll learn to be strong. /
Country road, it'll take me /
back to my home town. /
I can feel it now, if I just keep to /
this far-off way, country road. /
It won't matter how lonely the times get /
you'll never see me cry. /
I'll keep my tears at bay. /
I know I must take heart /
and that hurrying is all I can do. /
Only that way, can I forget. /
Country road, it may take me /
back to my home town, but even so /
Steeling my heart, I will not go now /
Not while I'm free. /
Country road, come tomorrow./
So it's goodbye, country road."
Parents
(Shizuku, a grade-school girl has taken to task writing her first story to see if she has talent and ability. She is doing this while the boy she loves has gone away for two months to figure out the same thing, only in regard to violin-making. As a result, her grades in school have fallen dramatically. Her older sister, Shiho, takes advantage of the situation to ridicule her because she is jealous of her youthful, easy life.)
Conversation:
Father: "Shiho, I want to talk to Shizuku alone. Will you please wait outside?" (Shiho leaves)
Father (to Shizuku's mother): "Will you come in here too, dear?"(Shizuku's mother enters)
Father: "Alright, Shizuku... Is what you're doing now more important than your studies?" (Shizuku shakes her head 'yes')
Father: "Will you tell us what it is you're doing?"
Shizuku: "I'll tell you when it's time."
Mother: "Shizuku, is this something you have to do now?"
Shizuku: "But there's no time! I only have three more weeks to do it! I've decided to test myself during this time! I have to do it!"
Mother: "Test yourself on what? What are you testing?" (Silence) "We won't know if you don't tell us." (Silence) "You can't even tell your father or your mother?"
Father: "I've noticed that you're putting a lot of effort into something at the library. I can respect that. Should we let Shizuku do what she wants, dear? It's not as if there's only one way to live your life."
Mother: "Well, I've had times like this in my life, too."
Father: "Alright. Shizuku, you'll have to do as you believe. But, it'll be very tough to find your own way. If anything happens, you'll have no one to blame." (Shizuku shakes her head in agreement)
Mother: "And please be present when we're eating dinner."
Father: "That's right. You're part of the family."
Shizuku: "Okay." (Shizuku and Shiho return to their joint room)
Shiho: "Shizuku, Father just said 'Oh well' but I think he really wanted you to study more."
Shizuku: "I know that. I could see it written on his face!"
Parents should act as guardrails, not bulldozers or cattle wranglers. Her parents respect the work she's putting in, the fact that she is challenging herself, and they keep it to themselves as to what they want for her. They allow their opinions to be undermined because it is, after all, her life. How many parents, through voicing their opinion, are really trying to manipulate the child by planting
seeds which grow into ideas? She lets them know it is temporary (and does return to being studious afterwards) and there is care and understanding throughout the entire process (even with Shizuku so tightlipped about what she is spending all of her time doing). There is communication, but only from the viewpoint of doing what is right for the child. They put their own desires aside for this. Any other way of relating to the child will be stifling. You dampen creativity, grow spite for the child, have the child grow spite for you, and in the end, may be one of the leading influences in the ruining of a life.
The Rock
The shop owner says to Shizuku: "Take a look. This kind of rock is called mica-slate. Take a look inside that crack... It's beautiful. That's called beryl. It contains pieces of raw emeralds... You are like that rock. Like a natural, still unpolished stone. I happen to like things like that... You have to find the raw jewel inside and spend the time to polish and refine it. It's time-consuming work. Can you see that big raw jewel inside that rock? The truth is that if you polish and refine it You'll find that it won't look very good. The smaller ones deep inside are more pure. In fact, there may be even better jewels inside where you can't see them."
Shizuku responds, "I'm scared to find out whether there's anything this pretty inside myself."
It is true that what we really are is hidden and must be carved out, polished and refined. Instead what most do is to create artificial constructs around the natural rock so as to give it a smooth appearance, a personality, opinions, wants and desires, likes and dislikes, a front. Just like the pufferfish, it is an illusion. Unlike the pufferfish, both the audience and the illusionist may be tricked by the illusion. Sadly, the more deep one digs, the more one realizes you did not have to carve out a rock, but simply brush away the leaves (A reference to Hagakure, the book of the samurai, written by Tsunetomo. The title translates as "hidden/
obscured by leaves").
As Carl Jung stated. "Filling the conscious mind with ideal conceptions is a characteristic of Western theosophy, but not the confrontation with the shadow and the world of darkness. One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious... The task of midlife is not to look into the light, but to bring light into the darkness. The latter procedure, however, is disagreeable and therefore not popular."
The viking religion also holds a similar idea. From the sagas, "Urds bronn er ikke lenger et dunkelt dyg vi stirrer ned i, men en levende strom som gar befruktende gjennom Nordensland." - "Urd's well is no longer darkness that we look down into, but a living stream that runs throughout the lands of the North, giving life." Out of darkness comes light, that sort of thing I suppose.
Praise
You work for days, weeks, months (like Shizuku), or even years on something you'd like to offer to the world. You offer it first to someone whose opinion you respect, in order to get a real opinion outside of your (by now jaded and biased) view. After waiting anxiously for a response, they reply with true compliments, praise and surprise. You cry joyfully. You cry? Yes. Why does this nearly never happen?
Choegyam Trungpa (from Shambhala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior): "Warriorship here does not refer to making war on others. Aggression is the source of our problems, not the solution. Here the word "warrior" is taken from the Tibetan pawo,
which literally means "one who is brave... The Japanese ideal of the samurai also represented a warrior tradition of wisdom... The key to warriorship and the first principle of Shambhala vision is not being afraid of who you are. Ultimately, that is the definition of bravery: not being afraid of yourself... Shambhala vision is the opposite of selfishness. When we are afraid of ourselves, afraid of the seeming threat the world presents, then we become extremely selfish. We want to build our little nests, our own cocoons, so that we can live by ourselves in a secure way... The essence of warriorship, or the essence of human bravery, is refusing to give up on anyone or anything... You should examine yourself and ask how many times you have tried to connect with your heart, fully and truly. How often have you turned away, because you feared you might discover something terrible about yourself? How often have you been willing to look at your face in the mirror, without being embarassed? How many times have you tried to shield yourself by reading the newspaper, watching television, or just spacing out? That is the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question: how much have you connected with yourself at all in your whole life? Real fearlessness is the product of tenderness [as opposed to blocking anything from affecting you]. It comes from letting the world touch your heart, your raw and beautiful heart. You are willing to open up, without resistance or shyness, and face the world. You are willing to share your heart with others."
In the end, you are able to create and give something to humanity. Two things actually. The knowledge that someone like you has faith in humanity and a gift of creation or invention they can admire and experience through or use to better their lives. And who did you do it all for? Us.
Syrupy sweet Japanese pop music
I'm translating a song by Ootsuka Ai. 
I've chosen her song "Frienger" as kinda an example of how jpop lyrics are so cute and harmless compared with western pop (breakups, bitches & hos, being depressed etc.) I'll probably do this with a few songs over time just for fun.
There are notes (marked with "*") and photos after the lyrics to explain.
Ootsuka Ai - "Frienger"
Stuffing my face with milky bread* and my hand reaches out for a chocolate pie*
I wanna eat one more, I wanna eat one more
Let's set our hearts free and have fun chatting
I wanna drink one more, I wanna drink one more
After our peach-pink love troubles, I want to kiss* again
The blue sky heals our fatigue from work, everyday is "dance & fight!!*"
If there's anything bad, as much as I can, I'll come at anytime to rescue you
I don't need anything, you can just do as you like, anytime I'll be there for you
Homemade musubi-lunch*, what's inside is totally russian roulette*
I wanna eat one more, I wanna eat one more
Girls are sweet and strong, let's bloom with a toast
I wanna drink one more, I wanna drink one more
We need all kinds of energy, replenished by nature
The yellow bonds of happiness, thank you and sorry!
If you're feeling lost, do what you feel, I'll always be your friend
In this world of all possible stories, I'll always catch you
It burns more just by being alive - that's the red heart
Being alone is a bother so everyday frienger* fight!!
If there's anything bad, as much as I can, I'll come at anytime to rescue you
I don't need anything, you can just do as you like, anytime I'll be there for you
*Notes:
Here's the confectionary/pastry known as 'milkbread' in Japan
Here's "chocolate pie"
chuu - she uses this noise which is the onomatopoeia for kissing in Japanese (if you say it your lips make a kiss shape), and it's similar to the way they picture octopuses:
fight - this is used in Japanese to mean "do your best"
musubi-lunch - musubi means 'tied' like as in a bow, hence the wrapped rice as below. this is usually a boxed lunch -
russian roulette - this is used in japanese to just mean something like taking a chance - the lunch is boxed, so you don't know what's inside until you open it. a fabulous culinary mystery of excitement!
frienger - this is her combination of "friend" and "ranger" - I'd say maybe she's saying we should all be "friendly rangers" in life
I've chosen her song "Frienger" as kinda an example of how jpop lyrics are so cute and harmless compared with western pop (breakups, bitches & hos, being depressed etc.) I'll probably do this with a few songs over time just for fun.
There are notes (marked with "*") and photos after the lyrics to explain.
Ootsuka Ai - "Frienger"
Stuffing my face with milky bread* and my hand reaches out for a chocolate pie*
I wanna eat one more, I wanna eat one more
Let's set our hearts free and have fun chatting
I wanna drink one more, I wanna drink one more
After our peach-pink love troubles, I want to kiss* again
The blue sky heals our fatigue from work, everyday is "dance & fight!!*"
If there's anything bad, as much as I can, I'll come at anytime to rescue you
I don't need anything, you can just do as you like, anytime I'll be there for you
Homemade musubi-lunch*, what's inside is totally russian roulette*
I wanna eat one more, I wanna eat one more
Girls are sweet and strong, let's bloom with a toast
I wanna drink one more, I wanna drink one more
We need all kinds of energy, replenished by nature
The yellow bonds of happiness, thank you and sorry!
If you're feeling lost, do what you feel, I'll always be your friend
In this world of all possible stories, I'll always catch you
It burns more just by being alive - that's the red heart
Being alone is a bother so everyday frienger* fight!!
If there's anything bad, as much as I can, I'll come at anytime to rescue you
I don't need anything, you can just do as you like, anytime I'll be there for you
*Notes:
Here's the confectionary/pastry known as 'milkbread' in Japan
Here's "chocolate pie"
chuu - she uses this noise which is the onomatopoeia for kissing in Japanese (if you say it your lips make a kiss shape), and it's similar to the way they picture octopuses:
fight - this is used in Japanese to mean "do your best"
musubi-lunch - musubi means 'tied' like as in a bow, hence the wrapped rice as below. this is usually a boxed lunch -
russian roulette - this is used in japanese to just mean something like taking a chance - the lunch is boxed, so you don't know what's inside until you open it. a fabulous culinary mystery of excitement!
frienger - this is her combination of "friend" and "ranger" - I'd say maybe she's saying we should all be "friendly rangers" in life
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Pride Fighting Championships New Year's Eve Pics+Vids
Being a fan for more than 13 years of MMA (and practitioner of related arts), I finally got the opportunity to go to a Pride show and see it live! It was fantastic! While you get a better view of the fights if you stay at home, seeing everything in person in reality was soooo different from television viewing, I'm thinking of going to see every show live. It made for an unbelievable New Year's Eve. I was really moved by the whole thing, seeing the show pulled off (over 5 hours), it was a work of mastery, the introduction with pyrotechnics, amazing music. There's so much I can say, maybe I'll get some question comments to answer. It left me floored!
Here are pictures, videos and descriptions from parts of my trip (no pics or vids of the fights, there's a million sites to find those).
PLEASE REMEMBER - the pictures are shown only very small here - please click on the photo to see a larger and much nicer view. Only then will you actually see what you should see!
We left my apartment at 12:30 to get some lunch. We decided on West Park Cafe, which I think has the best burgers in Japan. They have 4 branches I think, we chose the Marunouchi one as brought us closer to Pride (the Saitama Super Arena at the Saitama Shintoshin station - roughly north from Tokyo). West Park Cafe is in the Marunouchi Building (shortened to "Marubiru") basically in front of Tokyo Station. It takes 9 minutes on the train to Tokyo Station. After eating, we went out on the deck of marubiru and I took these two photos. Tokyo Station and the main post office. I think it has an interesting appearance and with the traffic circle, almost like London.
Looking for an ATM, now 2pm, we went through the tunnel to get from marubiru back to tokyo station. This photo isn't great, but there's these realistic underwater scenes on the walls and such, It's a really interesting and quiet hall.
We went back to Tokyo station and had to wait 10 minutes for the next Keihin-touhoku train heading through Saitama. Because of the holidays there were no express trains so it was going to take us 49 minutes. Thankfully the arena is attached to Saitama Shintoshin station, so once reaching the station, it took us 2 minutes to reach the arena. Waiting for the train, I saw this ad featuring Astro-Boy (called Atomu - Atom - Adam in Japan). I've always like him so here it is.
And here's the first picture of going from Saitama Shintoshin station towards the entrance to the arena. We arrived at 3:15. The show was starting at 4:00.
Here are two pictures of the outside of the arena. From here we looked for the booth to get our tickets and then went sightseeing/shopping.
I ended up buying a Nogueira shirt, thankfully he won later that evening. I wanted to get one of the pride credit cards (pic below) but there wasn't much time. I also got 2 Josh Barnett pride trading cards, but I don't want them. As you can see, the cards come with Takada or Crocop etc.
Here's two pictures from the booth for member's club/credit cards. They were blasting the pride theme music so for at least a half mile around it was all you could hear. Really felt like OK WE'RE AT PRIDE!
It was getting close to the 4pm showtime so we decided to head in. Lots of people were taking their photos at this big Pride poster showing all of the fighters.
Here's three pictures of the arena as it's filling in over the next 30 minutes before the show started. It was packed. I need to find out the attendance. The third picture giant tapestry says "Otoko Matsuri" - it means "Festival for Men!"
The show started at about 4:15pm. Here's a picture from the intro - there's 2 giant screens at the right, a huge group of singers below that, Takada playing a giant drum below that. There were all sorts of light effects, fire, explosions, it was amazing. Then the show began, I put away the camera and watched with intent!
After the show ended at 10:15pm, we walked with the crowds back to the station. Here are 3 pictures of the holiday lights around the arena and station.
Here is a giant thumbs-up from the pride show, I think this was about as tall as a person and on top of a 10 foot booth.
And a last blurry pic of the lights walking down the path to the station.
Finally the videos - Two of the outside (lights, the pride music, booths) and one verrrry short (2 second clip) from the intro (you can hear the crazy female announcer, see Takada, the singers, effects, etc.)
Here are pictures, videos and descriptions from parts of my trip (no pics or vids of the fights, there's a million sites to find those).
PLEASE REMEMBER - the pictures are shown only very small here - please click on the photo to see a larger and much nicer view. Only then will you actually see what you should see!
We left my apartment at 12:30 to get some lunch. We decided on West Park Cafe, which I think has the best burgers in Japan. They have 4 branches I think, we chose the Marunouchi one as brought us closer to Pride (the Saitama Super Arena at the Saitama Shintoshin station - roughly north from Tokyo). West Park Cafe is in the Marunouchi Building (shortened to "Marubiru") basically in front of Tokyo Station. It takes 9 minutes on the train to Tokyo Station. After eating, we went out on the deck of marubiru and I took these two photos. Tokyo Station and the main post office. I think it has an interesting appearance and with the traffic circle, almost like London.
Looking for an ATM, now 2pm, we went through the tunnel to get from marubiru back to tokyo station. This photo isn't great, but there's these realistic underwater scenes on the walls and such, It's a really interesting and quiet hall.
We went back to Tokyo station and had to wait 10 minutes for the next Keihin-touhoku train heading through Saitama. Because of the holidays there were no express trains so it was going to take us 49 minutes. Thankfully the arena is attached to Saitama Shintoshin station, so once reaching the station, it took us 2 minutes to reach the arena. Waiting for the train, I saw this ad featuring Astro-Boy (called Atomu - Atom - Adam in Japan). I've always like him so here it is.
And here's the first picture of going from Saitama Shintoshin station towards the entrance to the arena. We arrived at 3:15. The show was starting at 4:00.
Here are two pictures of the outside of the arena. From here we looked for the booth to get our tickets and then went sightseeing/shopping.
I ended up buying a Nogueira shirt, thankfully he won later that evening. I wanted to get one of the pride credit cards (pic below) but there wasn't much time. I also got 2 Josh Barnett pride trading cards, but I don't want them. As you can see, the cards come with Takada or Crocop etc.
Here's two pictures from the booth for member's club/credit cards. They were blasting the pride theme music so for at least a half mile around it was all you could hear. Really felt like OK WE'RE AT PRIDE!
It was getting close to the 4pm showtime so we decided to head in. Lots of people were taking their photos at this big Pride poster showing all of the fighters.
Here's three pictures of the arena as it's filling in over the next 30 minutes before the show started. It was packed. I need to find out the attendance. The third picture giant tapestry says "Otoko Matsuri" - it means "Festival for Men!"
The show started at about 4:15pm. Here's a picture from the intro - there's 2 giant screens at the right, a huge group of singers below that, Takada playing a giant drum below that. There were all sorts of light effects, fire, explosions, it was amazing. Then the show began, I put away the camera and watched with intent!
After the show ended at 10:15pm, we walked with the crowds back to the station. Here are 3 pictures of the holiday lights around the arena and station.
Here is a giant thumbs-up from the pride show, I think this was about as tall as a person and on top of a 10 foot booth.
And a last blurry pic of the lights walking down the path to the station.
Finally the videos - Two of the outside (lights, the pride music, booths) and one verrrry short (2 second clip) from the intro (you can hear the crazy female announcer, see Takada, the singers, effects, etc.)
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