Sunday, 29 April 2012
Friday, 27 April 2012
Rainy day 2
After picking up my brand new alien registration card I walked across the street intending to do a bit of shopping at the double shopping center and stumbled in a small park. Tucked behind tall trees and circled with flower beds of tulips, the park is tiny but in the rain the brightly coloured tulips were gorgeous. Just the thing to play around with my iPhone lens on!
Friday Smile
"Hiho hiho, it's off t'city hall I go!"
I sing to myself as I hang out the laundry and putter about late on a weekday morning, then spending far too long trying to rhyme "even though the damn system is changing in a few months I still have to take two days off work to renew my blasted alien registration card."
At midday I finally set out, in the rain, muttering to myself about the stupidity of forgetting my umbrella at work the (rainy) day before a rainy three day weekend (how I managed to forget and still remember the emergency fold-up umbrella in my locker is a mystery). I am almost at the station when I see a small girl with a biiiig umbrella walking down the middle of the residential street toward me. Her grandmother lumbers along on the side, without an umbrella, repeatedly telling the little girl to walk on the side of the road. But the little one had a huge grin on her face as she half sang an unknown tune and jumped in invisible puddles.
As the girl and I approach each other I can't help but smile at her. She looks up and into my eyes, as she does an exclamation escapes her lips. I sigh deeply, the moment ruined, as I know she is about to remark on my foreignness. A grin across her face she skips to her grandma and yells "osanpo!" (walk) her grandmother stops and smiles at the little girl, asking her who. The girl jumps for joy and says "oneisan" (elder sister / young woman) and points to me as I walk past.
I didn't hear what the grandmother said or even know if the grandmother realized I was a foreigner. But the total unexpectedness of the little girl's remark had me smiling again.
At the bottom of the hill by the station there was even a puddle perfect for jumping. For the time being I don't care that I've gotten my socks wet.
I sing to myself as I hang out the laundry and putter about late on a weekday morning, then spending far too long trying to rhyme "even though the damn system is changing in a few months I still have to take two days off work to renew my blasted alien registration card."
At midday I finally set out, in the rain, muttering to myself about the stupidity of forgetting my umbrella at work the (rainy) day before a rainy three day weekend (how I managed to forget and still remember the emergency fold-up umbrella in my locker is a mystery). I am almost at the station when I see a small girl with a biiiig umbrella walking down the middle of the residential street toward me. Her grandmother lumbers along on the side, without an umbrella, repeatedly telling the little girl to walk on the side of the road. But the little one had a huge grin on her face as she half sang an unknown tune and jumped in invisible puddles.
As the girl and I approach each other I can't help but smile at her. She looks up and into my eyes, as she does an exclamation escapes her lips. I sigh deeply, the moment ruined, as I know she is about to remark on my foreignness. A grin across her face she skips to her grandma and yells "osanpo!" (walk) her grandmother stops and smiles at the little girl, asking her who. The girl jumps for joy and says "oneisan" (elder sister / young woman) and points to me as I walk past.
I didn't hear what the grandmother said or even know if the grandmother realized I was a foreigner. But the total unexpectedness of the little girl's remark had me smiling again.
At the bottom of the hill by the station there was even a puddle perfect for jumping. For the time being I don't care that I've gotten my socks wet.
Wednesday, 25 April 2012
Tuesday, 24 April 2012
Slurping Japanese
After working together for over three years and seeing me translate 150 year-old documents and decipher half-illegible hand written memos, one of my coworkers complimented me on my Japanese the other day.
My handle on Japanese customs that is.
My slurping to be exact.
After being taught as a child to eat silently I had to reteach myself to slurp when I first came to Japan. I now slurp udon/ramen/soba noodles without a second thought but not all are so limited in their slurping.
The older man at the table next to us at a nice Italian restaurant did not discriminate between noodles and slurped his carbonara from his plate, fork held aloft.
The guy beside me at Subway last night didn't limit himself to noodles, or even just noodle-shaped sliced onion and shredded cabbage. He slurped his entire subway sandwich, toasted bread and cold cuts and all.
My coworker was obviously just humouring me, I have much to learn.
My handle on Japanese customs that is.
My slurping to be exact.
After being taught as a child to eat silently I had to reteach myself to slurp when I first came to Japan. I now slurp udon/ramen/soba noodles without a second thought but not all are so limited in their slurping.
The older man at the table next to us at a nice Italian restaurant did not discriminate between noodles and slurped his carbonara from his plate, fork held aloft.
The guy beside me at Subway last night didn't limit himself to noodles, or even just noodle-shaped sliced onion and shredded cabbage. He slurped his entire subway sandwich, toasted bread and cold cuts and all.
My coworker was obviously just humouring me, I have much to learn.
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