It’s like this: I go to Japanese class for 12 hours per week and have homework every single day. For the last two weeks, I’ve had 2-3 tests each week. During Japanese class, we are only allowed to speak in Japanese. Actually, it’s been that way since the first day. Luckily, the sensei’s are very good at nonverbal communication – there is generally much gesturing and picture drawing on the board. Yet, despite the fact that my brain often literally hurts after class, I must admit to loving it. Why? Well, first of all, each sensei is wonderful. Secondly, it’s practically a private lesson: A Class (the bottom of the bottom) is only two students! Combine these two factors, and George and I pretty much have an awesome time. I would estimate that 10 minutes of each day are spent laughing so hard not one of the three of us in the room is capable of speech. Add all this awesome together, and you’ve got a Marie who has mastered two of the three Japanese writing systems (admittedly the easy ones), can go to the post office and tell the workers she wants to send her letters to America, can muddle through an introduction, and who can formulate sentences like the following:
わたしのねこはコーヒーがすきですから、わたしはコビンーでコーヒーやミルクおかいます。
Which, in case you were wondering, roughly translates to: Because my cat likes coffee, I went to the convince store and bought coffee, milk, etcetera. Be impressed.
Yes, I am pretending that three weeks in London made me a master of the tube system. Otherwise, it would have been even sillier of me to hop on a train approximately two hours from home with the conviction that I could end at Akehabara, the Electric City. I will not lie: There were a few moments of panic, because it definitely didn’t look like we were going in the right direction. But, luckily, I can read. Thus - even though the map was supremely confusing and seemed to be missing stations – I eventually found out where we were and surprise! that we were heading the right direction. From there, more reading, frantic searching followed and I even managed to make the right connection. And Akehabara was there. I was proud. I am proud. (Thank you, Warren Street!)
TIU is a really great university, first of all, and the JSP program is excellent. They hold our hands and make sure we’re ok and everything is pretty much fabulous. So it’s no real surprise that the lunch buddy program is great. See, a JSP (what I am) and a TIU (regular, Japanese student) sign up and have lunch together. There are English days and Japanese days. It makes awkward, openly grasping conversation starters entirely acceptable, forces you to practice a language, and makes you make friends! I like. And it has taught me that even if the shared language is only minimal (as in, my Japanese), it is possible to carry out a conversation. A little English + A little Japanese + wild gestures + phone translators (which my phone has! SCORE) = half an hour of genuine communication.
Or, at least, there are some very intellectual people that write about it and try to convince me they aren't forming theoretical frameworks where they really aren't any. Regardless, my pop culture class pretty much leaves me in awe every single class. (And, yes – so far, pop culture is all about anime and manga.) Sometimes, it breaks my heart because cartoons can be freaking sad. Sometimes, it ruins my childhood, because there are people who draw very inappropriate Star Wars cartoons. Sometimes, it ruins my life, because there are other people that draw inappropriate and NOT TRUE Harry Potter cartoons. Sometimes, it talks about gender roles and feminist theory and Harlequin romances and rewriting history and symbolism and escapism and all this crazy awesome stuff that blows my mind.
They just are. The difference is makes in actually feeling like you belong is amazing. You have someone to look out for you, ramble at, compare cultures with, play cards with, give you cold medicine, bring you extra blankets, do your laundry, cook you food, tell you you look like a supermodel, buy you crazy skirts, tell you about their day, text good morning, etcetera etcetera.
Really, people. It is.
