Sunday, February 23, 2014

Always talk to strangers

   A couple months back I went for a walk in the next town up from me.

   I always love looking at peoples' yards, especially when they have gardens. This seemed like a pretty poor part of town, and this one house had a lot of creative stuff in its garden. 

   As I was walking along the path by this house, I passed by a man who was leaning against his truck, looking out at the river. He said hello to me, and when I said hi back, he called me over to look in the back of his car. Since it's Japan, and he seemed friendly, I went over and took a look. He showed me a bunch of beautiful photographs of birds that live in the river. He's been watching and photographing them for ten years, he told me. He knows where they nest and where they like to hang out and look for food. He told me about the way they dance when they're mating. Unlike humans, he said, the males are more beautiful than the females.  Before I left, he gave me one of his photographs.

    Some people like to stop and chat with me here, and I've noticed it tends to be older people. They tend to give me something before they say good bye. One old man who was sitting next to me on the train asked me where I was from, told me a folktale about the shrine in the tiny town we were passing through (which unfortunately, I barely understood), and then gave us some postcards he and his girlfriend had painted. He told me about other people he had given cards to - they were all foreigners.

   Another time, a friend and I were on a train, holding a bunch of cooking supplies, and a really nice old lady with trembling hands gave my friend a safety pin because she was worried that the handle of her tote bag would break from the strain of all the pots and pans inside.

   There was also an old man who chatted up me and a friend of mine right after we descended that hiking trail from the castle. Somehow we got talking about American movie actors and he asked me if I had ever met some random actor, maybe Clint Eastwood. 

   Another day, I was walking along a river and I fell into step with an old woman who was walking at a brisk pace. "Do you know how this river got its name?" she asked me. When I said no, she proceeded to tell me the story, which involved a German man who used to live in the area.

   And once when some friends and I were in a bookstore in the city, a young guy came up and talked to us in English for a few minutes. He told us he was studying English at university, but had a hard time finding foreigners to talk to. "Japanese people don't usually talk to strangers in bookstores," he told us. 

   I really like the random people who talk to me and my friends. 

Saturday, February 15, 2014

Oh, hello

   Recently I got to go to a fourth grade math class. They were studying rectangular prisms.

   The kids had all brought in boxes from home. The first thing they did was cut them up: unfolded them so that the six faces were connected but lying flat. Of course, depending on how the kids cut them up, they ended up with a bunch of different shapes.

   At that point, the teacher wrote the day's goal up on the board. They do this in every class, in every grade. It must be required as part of the Japanese curriculum. In English classes, they call it the "aim" or "task" for the day. The kids usually have to copy it onto their worksheets or into their notebooks. The goal for this class was to think about that shape that you get when you unfold a box. What is that called? Apparently in English it's called a net.

    Like this guy:

    The teacher handed out graph paper and told them to draw the net for a 3x4x5 rectangular prism. He got them started by drawing two of the faces up on the board, but then let them finish it themselves. When they were done, they cut it out and checked that they could fold it into a box. For the kids who finished early, he challenged them to think of different ways to draw nets. One kid came up with three different ways.

   What struck me the most about the class is how relaxed the pace was. They really only did two things in the class: first they cut up a box into a net, and then they drew a net and folded it into a box. It was also really hands on, and the teacher let the kids think for themselves about how to draw the net. Only one or two of the kids seemed to find drawing the net confusing, and since it was so slow paced, the teacher had plenty of time to go over and help them out. 

   Me, I spend most of my time in English class. Thinking about English from the perspective of someone who's not a native speaker can be pretty mind blowing. I've noticed all kinds of crazy things about the English language that I never noticed before.

   For example, what's the difference between "will" and "going to?"
   "I'll call her."
   "I'm going to call her."
    You'd say "I'll" if you just made up your mind to call her on the spot. Someone reminds you that you have to call her and you say, ok fine I'll do it.
    You'd say "I'm going to" if it's something you already planned to do. Someone says, oh no, I forgot we were supposed to call her! and you say, no, it's cool, I'm going to do it.
   If the phone rang and you rushed to pick it up, you'd say "I'll get it!" because it's a spur of the moment decision. 

   On the other hand, "I will call her" sounds emphatic and formal. Maybe you're trying to convince someone that you'll really do it. 

   What's the difference between "just now" and "right now"?
   "He was here just now." (but he's not any more)
   "He's here right now." (and still is)

   And this is more Japanese-specific, but it always sounds more natural for them to say, "Because I was cold, I put on my jacket." Instead of, "I put on my jacket because I was cold." Apparently we English-speakers like to cut to the chase and offer a reason later, but Japanese people prefer to soften you up with the reason before they tell you what they did.

   And then there's this debacle:
   I don't know how anybody who picks up English as a second language ever gets this 100% right. Try explaining to someone that when you start writing your paragraph about a village in Alaska, you call it "a village" because your audience doesn't know it yet, so it's just some random nonspecific village in their minds. But once you've introduced it, it becomes "the village" because everyone knows that you are talking about that one village up there in Alaska.

   And by the way, I play soccer, but I also play "the" piano. What's up with that?