I think my Japanese might be improving a little. I'm starting to understand most if not all conversations, and the other day a member from Shibuya called me to ask me a question and there was much complimenting of my Japanese in the phone call. "When you were in Shibuya your Japanese was good, but it sounded a bit...childish, I suppose is the word. It's so refined now!"
Which makes me a little embarrassed and wondering what my Japanese must have been like back then, but I feel much better about it now. I can't personally really feel any difference...but there clearly is one.
I still am bad at reading kanji. I need to kick that study back into gear, as soon as I have cleaned my desk. I have FAR too much stuff. I want to get good at writing kanji and also being able to read out loud. I am still at the stage where I can recognize and understand kanji but I am not always great at readings yet -- with the exception of common names. I can read those no problem.
One thing that still fascinates me is that while my ability to speak and understand Japanese may be improving, there are still some things that I don't understand. These miscommunications are still lost in translation. Take humor, for example. People used to laugh at my humor when I was not trying to be funny, but didn't understand my jokes. Now people tend to laugh when I AM trying to be funny, although my jokes are still rather simple. I'm getting used to that, and I suspect that when I return to English someday in the distant future I will be utterly not-funny for a while.
But far beyond humor is the cultural differences. I will share an example. The other day my companion and I had biked out to Goi, one of the most inaka (countryside) places in our area, meaning that the buildings were only 2-3 stories tall and the color green was occasionally visible between all the Pachinko parlors. There we went to visit a member who has been struggling lately. We tried to catch her at home, but her kids told us she had already headed off to work. We trundled over to the store where she worked and found it relatively quickly. She works for a small meat stand, about as long and wide as a pickup truck. The line of customers was out the door and chatting gaily on the road while the employees hastily filled orders. We decided to wait for it to calm down a bit (all the customers were men) and watched on the other side of the road for a moment.
One of the orders seemed to call for chicken because the owner, a small tough woman, stepped over to the side of the store with a large bag (it was the size of a pillowcase) of chicken breasts. She then began to beat the bag of chicken against the sidewalk in order to break up the pieces. She then reached in, with her bare hand, and grabbed a few pieces, which she held against her not-exactly-clean apron to carry back into the store, put into a bag, and give to the customer. All this passed without comment, although my brain fused in several places as I cringed through the whole process. I kept thinking back to all the food training and cooking classes I had taken, and I had lost count of how many rules were just broken -- not to mention the chicken and sausage were not immediately put back in the fridge but were left as open bags outside. I am not sure how long they remained that way as we left a while later, but remember this is a hot summer, and it had not yet cooled down for the evening.
The next day we had a meeting with our Ward Mission Leader and reported that we had met with this Sister, albeit briefly, at her work. I also made a small comment that I didn't think I would be able to buy meat from that store. Both my companion and the Ward Mission Leader looked at me, confused. I explained what I had seen, although I messed up at first and said "dirt" instead of "sidewalk." The Leader was quite surprised, but my companion figured out what I had meant and explained that the bag beating was on the sidewalk, not on dirt.
"Oh!" said the Mission Leader, looking relieved, "Well, that's all right, then."
I blinked, "It is? I mean, it's sidewalk. That bag doubtlessly got some holes from the beating and dragging around."
He waved his hand at me, trying to reassure me, "I know things are different in America. I've had some American companions, but it's okay. We do things a little differently here. That's completely normal."
"Ah," replied I and dropped the conversation. I suppose the germs in Japan are too polite to hop onto the chicken.
Really, I understand that there are some cultural differences, and I am totally okay with the idea of "different doesn't mean wrong." There are a lot of things about Japan that just wouldn't fly in America (public bath houses, for example, which would be the equivalent of a swimming pool without suits), but that doesn't make them wrong, just different.
But when it comes to health concerns I admit I can be a little picky.
And I think I shall be a bit more selective of where I do my shopping.
All else is well in Japan, and thanks as always for reading! Have a great week everyone!
Congratulations to D for the birth of a beautiful wonderful new child, and I am so happy to be an aunt once again! Please check out one of my siblings blogs for more details. I am sure there are plenty to be had.
[Note from Shana: I will have info on my blog after this Friday when I can get some good pictures! But Jenny is a beautiful and healthy redhead, and everyone is doing well.]
