In Japan, so many things are simply done by the book, leaving little room for exceptions or even a little breathing space.
In one sense, I can understand it. Human nature so often has a tendency to take a mile when given an inch that it may be easier to impose a blanket ban on everyone from the outset. That is also the easiest system to enforce.
After all, when one says that exceptions may be made “at one’s discretion,” how much discretion should be exercised, and how far should the exception go? It is difficult to judge, isn’t it?
And what if that only gives rise to a dispute?
Because I live in a women’s dormitory, non-residents are strictly forbidden to enter. Only family members and same-sex friends may come in after registering. Yet although my “husband” was classified as family, he was still refused when I submitted a request for him to visit, for the simple reason that he was “of the opposite sex.”
I could not help thinking: oh, so perhaps it is “just as well” Japan is not Canada? Otherwise, if declaring one’s own gender identity were all it took, my opposite-sex husband would only have to suffer a tiny indignity and declare himself a woman, and then he could enter a women’s dormitory in Canada? XD
In any case, if you are a man, you are not allowed inside unless you are a male member of the dormitory staff. No other man may enter, not even for a brief visit. With all the practicalities of scheduling and packing my luggage in mind,
I began looking at hotels where rooms can be booked by the hour.
Booking.com did not seem to offer this kind of hourly stay, so AI recommended Rakuten Travel instead.
I have to say, every country has its own distinctive business models. Unless you know the country’s commercial environment, it can be remarkably difficult to work out where the opportunities are, or how to make use of them.
Searching for this sort of temporary place to stay left me a little irritated.
Once I had booked a room, however, Rakuten Travel’s convenient, smooth interface made me think: OK, perhaps things were not actually so bad after all.
I patted myself on the chest by way of reassurance. My ability to adapt and solve problems is still rather formidable.
Today was my first day of class. There are eighteen students altogether, ten women and eight men, and eight of us come from the Chinese-speaking world.
We also received our textbooks on the first day. The teacher called us up one at a time and handed out the books, and I noticed that not everyone was being given the same ones. Surely not, I thought. Have they even customised the textbooks?
After watching more carefully for a while, I realised that the books differed according to each student’s language group.
ISI uses Minna no Nihongo, along with a thick kanji book. For people from the Chinese-speaking world, that kanji book is rather superfluous. Of course, some characters and the prescribed stroke order for Japanese kanji do differ from what we are used to; broadly speaking, though, spending class time practising how to write kanji feels decidedly dispensable.
Still, it only takes about twenty minutes. I can treat it as practice and a way to reinforce the readings of the characters.
I had also used Minna no Nihongo when teaching myself in Taiwan, so I had made a point of bringing my textbook with me all the way from Germany.
When I went home and compared the lessons, the contents turned out to be exactly the same; only the order was different. In that instant, I understood why my teachers in Taiwan, and Hitoshi Deguchi in his online classes, always began with the sentence patterns. The original Japanese textbook is arranged in precisely that order.
Although the lessons are identical, my foundations were never especially solid. The grammar I once learnt still looks vaguely familiar, yet I have already forgotten it completely. Now I am starting again from the beginning, this time with classmates beside me. Perhaps learning through interaction with a group will create moments vivid enough to help the material stay in my memory.
In many language courses, teachers usually ask everyone to introduce themselves in the first lesson. This time, perhaps handing out the books and checking each student’s name took too long. Once the administrative work was done, the teacher went straight into the kanji lesson.
Well, we have plenty of time ahead of us?
I have to say, Japanese is a relatively small language used in only one country, yet the scale of this language school and the sheer number of people studying here are unlike anything I ever saw at a language school in Germany.
It shows just how powerfully Japan draws people from countries all over the world. Even after what is said to be “thirty lost years” of economic stagnation, people still come one after another, longing for this island nation.
Japan, this country of all countries.
Here is my first small complaint: when I eat out, the staples are all far too heavy on starch. Even the meals at the dormitory are mostly carbohydrates. If I do not cook for myself, there is so little meat that I feel as if I never get properly full from one day to the next…
讀者留言