Coping (or not) with the language barriers

"So, what shall we have for dinner tonight?"

Living in Japan, even just for two weeks, gives me a tiny taste of what it must be like being a migrant arriving in New Zealand, or Europe, or the US. Because I don’t speak the language, I can’t perform the simplest task. Answering the door. Buying a child car seat. Asking directions. Goodness knows what I would do if I had to open a bank account, seek medical help or enrol my children in school. Get a job. What if it had been me having to find out how, where and when to register Zen’s birth. 

In Cuba it wasn’t so bad. With a mixture or French, English and a bit of Spanish, I could muddle through; get my message across, get where I needed to go, buy what I needed to buy. And quite a few people spoke English. 

Not so here. And Japanese is such a hard language for an English speaker - totally different from anything I know. I can’t imagine ever being anywhere near fluent, even if I studied diligently for the rest of my life. And that means I’d never be able to communicate easily with a Japanese speaker. Never master the bureaucracy of everyday life. Never make a close Japanese friend.

I can see why children of migrants, even very young children, become the ears and mouths of migrant families. And why older people feel isolated and gravitate towards people from their own community - for help, and someone to talk to. I have Saho and Ben here to translate and perform the tasks that need doing. But I hate to think how hard it would be if I didn’t.

I have such admiration for refugees, forced into this situation, through no fault of their own. Stuck in a country they don’t necessarily want to be in, and compelled to operate in a language they don’t speak (and may never read or write) and a culture they don’t understand. Sod that for a game of soldiers, as they say.

A quick cup of tea...

Ten things to like about Japan - aside from the obvious stuff

I can't say I know Japan at all well, having spent a grand total of a little over two weeks here, much of it in the house, doing my grandmotherly bit. But even walking to the store and (as the days progressed) as I've explored Osaka a bit more, I've noticed some interesting and quirky stuff. Here are 10 - actually 11 - things I've enjoyed about Japan - aside from the great tourist sites (temples and castles), the yummy food, and the experience of being part of a newborn family celebration, complete with kimono dress-up (about which more in another blog).

In no particular order:

1. Cool guys on granny bikes: No self-respecting cyclist in New Zealand (let alone France) would be seen dead on 99% of the bikes in Japan. Baskets are standard, baby carriers are really common (some bikes can carry a baby in a sling thing on the front and an older kid on the back), and a special attachment on the handlebars allows you to fix an umbrella as protection from sun or rain. People often/mostly ride on the pavement, helmets are rare (even for children), as are lights or fluoro vests. I never saw lycra. But checking your mobile phone while cycling along is de rigueur. Japan passed bike safety laws in 2015 which banned, among other things, cellphones on bikes. I would suggest they have an enforcement problem. (Scroll across for bike photos. NOTE: The one of the woman with the umbrella isn't just a crappy shot - it was actually pretty much dark, and not raining. Not sure why she needed an umbrella. Just because everyone else had one? Also note, the shot of the special bike for wearing when you are wearing a kimono is stolen from the internet.

2. Silent cellphones: No one talks on their cellphone in public. Part of the serious quiet in Japanese streets and on public transport. People are on their phones, but no one speaks. Walking along one shopping street, we noticed a man crouched down behind some bicycles. Not a wino or a kid having a quick smoke. Just some business guy taking an urgent call.
3. This man's outfit. Check out those shoes.

4. Bum-wash toilets. Press a button and the loo squirts water (choice of warm or cold) at your bottom. I WANT one of those. Scroll across below for a couple of photos of the flight deck of our toilet here, though they have them everywhere. Bliss!

5. Green tea/vanilla ripple soft serve ice cream.

6. Museum entry. It's seriously cheap, at least compared to the cost of green tea/vanilla ripple soft serve ice cream. I paid Y900 (that's about NZ$11 or £6) for a joint entry ticket for the Museum of History and the Osaka Castle. Meanwhile, I paid Y450 for a green tea soft serve ice cream outside. Spot the better value.
7. Almost no litter. Almost no crime. Anyone could walk into the front door of our house here any time day or night, people park kids' bikes unlocked on their front porch, and apparently it's fine to leave your handbag on your seat in McDonalds when you go up to order.
8. Bubbly sake: Delicious, 5% alcohol, and rather a fine-looking bottle. Oh, and this rice snack I bought is pretty - and yummy too. Don't forget that the green wrapper just underneath the plastic is edible too.

9. SIxteenth century warrior helmets. From the famous folding screen depicting "The summer war in Osaka", held at the Osaka Castle museum. I want one of those too.

10. Caligraphy. We got back one day and Saho's mum had left this note. Beautiful. I assumed it was some deep meaningful thought or quote. But no. It was asking Saho to pay the dry cleaning guy when he came, and saying they wouldn't be over later because her brother had a cough. What class!

I already have 10, but I couldn't miss this one out. So... 11. My first errand Japanese TV show. While the media in NZ (and elsewhere, I suspect) fret over whether we are over-protecting our children, Japanese parents send kids as young as three or four off to the shops or to school - unaccompanied, sometimes even if it means a train or bus ride. The argument is that Japan is safe, and heading off early will promote independence and self-reliance. If you don't have young children to push into the scary world, you can watch other people doing it. "My first errand" (Hajimete no Otsukai) has been a top-rating show in Japan for more than 25 years. The film crew follow small children as they carry out errands for their parents. Actually, it's strangely compelling and entertaining viewing. Watch this episode, which has English subtitles - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e5k5XTZy0rA.

Supermarket shopping in Japan. Smile a word

About the only thing in English in the our local supermarket is the slogan. But it's a good one.

The first time I went to the supermarket, I went with Saho (fluent Japanese), the next time with Ben (some Japanese). Then I was Ready To Go It Alone. I’ve found most Japanese people don’t speak English (why should they?), which makes finding your way around a bit tricky. But actually, finding stuff in the supermarket was weirdly easy, though I didn't know that at the time. Before leaving,  I’d got my list and asked Saho to write down the Japanese characters for what I needed. Then, I reasoned, all I needed was to find a staff member and point to the Japanese words.

I arrived, started to put my plan into action. Top of the list: limes. (No, not for mojitos, though that's not a bad idea. Actually, I haven't had a mojito since leaving England. But sparkling sake, now that's another thing entirely... ). Anyway, I pointed the the Japanese character on my shopping list. “Ah, lim-er” (you’ll have to do your own Japanese accent), the helpful lady said. We found the limes.

And here are those limes-ers. No skimping on the packaging.

Next: coriander. “Ah, coriand-er”. OK. Fish sauce was “feesh sauce-er”, jam was “jam-er”, blueberries were “blueberreee” a washing-up sponge was “spongee”. I was asking for products that would have originally come from overseas, and they all had English names. Easy. Meanwhile, bread was “pan”, from the French and pronounced like the French, with a barely-sounded nasal “n”. (The “er” that you hear when Japanese people say English words is because Japanese words never end in a consonant sound, so they add a final vowel. I suspect the French “n” sounds enough like a vowel not to count.)

The checkout was more challenging. You line up with your basket and an operator scans your purchases, but then you pay at a self-service machine at the end of the counter. There were several buttons to press to make the transaction, and the instructions were in Japanese. I had to find a passing shopper to push the buttons for me. Stupid foreigner.

Finally, as an example of how the most normal day-to-day experiences can be just slightly different in different countries, at Japanese supermarkets (well at that chain at least) you carry your purchases in the basket away from the till and bag them at a different counter. As a way to speed up the process at the till, that’s quite clever.

Living in a temple

Lanterns during children's festival at "our" temple. Each child connected with the temple gets a lantern with their name in Chinese characters

Saho’s mum and step-dad are Buddhist monks and the house we are staying in is attached to a small Buddhist temple. The family Buddhist temple. I looked it up and I get the feeling that in a weird way running a temple is a bit like running any other small business - a hardware shop or fruit store. The monks provide a spiritual service, much of it around funeral rites, and they are paid for that service, although their income comes from donations, rather than set fees. Monks aren’t supposed to expect financial reward for what they do, though of course they have to feed their families and maintain their temples. Often temples are passed down from father to son, as I think was the case with this one.

The inside of the temple...

...and the outside

The temple itself isn’t used a lot - unlike, say, a parish church or a mosque. The annual August children’s festival fell the day I arrived, which was a big event, with a marquee set up in the courtyard and the area decorated with dozens of lanterns with children’s names on in beautiful Chinese characters. A group of women, led by Saho’s mum, sat on the porch of the temple and chanted and dinged handbells, while outside Saho’s step-dad chanted in front of the shrine and rang a larger bell. People queued up and bowed in front of the shrine, and prayed for the health of their children, who were given goodie bags with snacks in.

Yoshi, Saho's dad, in his priest's robes, with Yuri, her mum, leading the women's chanting on the temple steps

But by the next morning, everything had been packed away, and apart from the odd morning where I’ve heard either Yoshi (Saho’s step dad) or Yuri (Saho’s mum) chanting in the temple, nothing much has happened since. Instead, Yoshi puts on his robes (black for normal work, purple for funeral rites) on top of his white under-robes, and heads off in his car, presumably to people’s houses. He changes back into jeans and a t-shirt when he gets home.

Yoshi initiating at the children's festival

There are currently around 75,000 temples in Japan - 50% more temples than there are convenience stores, apparently. But as with Christian churches, people are worried about their decline, as younger people lose the connection with their religion and choose cheaper, secular burial options. One article I read suggested 30% of Japanese temples could close by 2040, with ones in rural areas most at risk. 

The Shitennoji temple in central Osaka is somewhat bigger than the one here!

I read, in the Irish Times of all places, that Japanese temples face new competition from rent-a-monk services, which offer Buddhist funeral blessings at a fixed price. This has the advantage of being cheaper than the going rate, but it also offers certainty for people bemused by an often obscure donation system, the paper says.

Meanwhile, some monks have opened bars or cafés attached to their temples, as a way to bring people back; one did an MBA as a way to modernise the way he ran his business.

I have no idea how Saho’s parents’ family temple is going, but it seems flourishing - the buildings are beautifully maintained and the work seems to provide a good living. I hope so, because it’s certainly a very cool place to be staying.

Just another day in the office: Saho's family outside the temple during preparations for children's festival day