Becoming the Monster

When I got off the airplane to find myself standing in the oppressive early morning humidity of a Tokyo summer almost 17 months ago, I came equipped with “Hello”, “Please be good to me”, “Where is the toilet”, and about 2 dozen or so other essential phrases. I’ve never learned a language to any real proficiency, but I came with an open mind and an eagerness to learn. After all, if I can't learn a language while living in the country that speaks it, there's not much hope for me. And so I set out on my journey of linguistic self-betterment.


Initially, there’s the high. The first time you bow to somebody and introduce yourself. The first time you ask a shop employee where they keep the soy sauce. The first time you find that sweet spot with your tongue (it’s between R and L). And it just get’s better and better. The first time you catch the amount that the cashier asks for without reading it from the till, the first time you write your full address correctly in kanji, the first time you read a sign post and can actually pronounce the place name! The early stages are so full of landmark moments, you can’t help but feel great about your progress. Except...

Except when you are with other foreigners. People who started learning when they got off the plane in Tokyo the same day as you. Or people who’ve been here a year or two longer than you. And then the people who’ve studied Japanese as their major back home, then spent a year studying in Japan, then came here. Three years before you. There’s a very wide range of people, with an even wider range of ability. But they all share one thing in common. When you try to use the Japanese that you do know around them, it comes out a garbled mess of false starts, misplaced words, and mispronunciation. And then... well then you feel really quite silly. Your confidence takes a knock and just like that... *POOF* The high is gone.

And that’s the best case scenario. That’s the unavoidable result. That’s with them being polite, and encouraging, and helpful. But that’s not always how things go. Placed in any given situation, with Japanese Person and Fluent Guy, there is a good chance the conversation will go something like this:

Me: “HI! Fun, yes? By the wai, Nicetomeetyou. Take care of me!”

JP: Hi, I’m 佐藤. Nice to meet you. You speak Japanese well.

Me: No NO No No. Not yet. Learneding.

FG: “彼はアイルランド人。８月に来た。

JP: Oh, you are from Ireland? Do you like Japan?

FG: (In English) She asked if you like Japan.

Me: Yes. I truethfully like.

FG: 鶴岡に住んでいます。工業高校で働きます。
JP: Oh really? 高校生のとき、その学校に行きました.
FG: そうですか？英語の先生はどうでしたか？
JP: マーマー。喋ることができないね！
FG: 大丈夫です、僕も英語下手！

JP/FG: HAHAHAHAHA!

As you can imagine, I did’t get a lot from these exchanges. But I kept plugging away at my Japanese, and gradually, bit by bit, without ever really feeling confident about it, I improved. Back in May I took up going to a Japanese class once a week, where I was lucky enough to be the only student. Soon, once a week became twice a week and before I knew it I was spending an hour and a half most Tuesday and Wednesday evenings bumbling my way through a one-on-one conversation.

Fast forward to last weekend, where I arrived at my school’s year-end party. I would spend the next 8 straight hours speaking almost entirely in Japanese. I hit it off with teachers I’d never spoken to before, I sang a Japanese song at karaoke, I stayed up well into the night talking about anything and everything with my increasingly inebriated co-workers. It was like those 17 months of study and practice suddenly bore fruit. I knew I still had a long, long way to go before fluency, but more and more I found the right words naturally coming out of my mouth. It felt great.

The next day, the head of the school office invited me to his house where we would make and eat traditional Japanese buckwheat noodles. He spoke only a little English and his wife spoke almost none, but his daughter had a good command of the language and when the father and I arrived she was already entertaining a friend of mine in their house. This friend is a JET too, and she arrived this summer. Just like me a year ago, she had no almost Japanese when she got here. And just like me a year ago, she is learning but is in the early stages yet.

We all got chatting away, and I found myself slipping naturally between English and Japanese. Explaining something that my friend had said which the father hadn’t caught or letting her in on an observation that the mother had made. I’d realise only after I’d said something that it wasn’t in English, and then have to fill my friend in as an afterthought to keep her in the conversation. I’d translate what I thought she was trying to say almost before she’d said it, just to speed up the bi-lingual flow. I’d think of something quippy to say and the father, the mother, the daughter and I would all have a good laugh.

“HAHAHAHAHA!”

Then it hit me like a bullet train right in the conscience. I damn near looked down at my own trembling hands before me.

I was that guy.

Thoroughly disgusted with myself.