Living or traveling in a country whose primary language is not your own offers many opportunities for communication blunders and misunderstandings! I say that from experience. After only ten weeks of Japanese language school, I didn’t always know what I was saying—or what I was being told.

Previously I shared some friends’ stories of communication breakdowns. Today I share a couple of my own.

Japanese Language School

I spent ten weeks in language school when I first arrived in Japan.  Every weekday morning I  joined folks from around the world who wanted to learn the Japanese language. It was still run by the lovely but now ancient founders under whom my missions supervisors had studied years before. The program had six ten-week terms. Graduating from the language school would equip a person to communicate fluently in Japanese.

But I only attended the first term. Since I was on a short-term assignment (two years that stretched to three) my time for language study was limited. During the first term we learned the basics of Japanese pronunciation, vocabulary, and grammar. Had I attended the second term I would have learned to read and write simple Japanese.

There were four of us in my class: a Swiss man working in Japan; a Japanese-Brazilian who wanted to learn his family’s heart language; the young Chinese bride of a Japanese man; and me. I did not excel in the class, but I seemed to have an ear for the sound of the language. My pronunciation skills were impressive!

My First Attempt to Apply my Knowledge

A line from one lesson stands out in my mind. It was, “Kono dencha wa Hibiya ni ikimasuka?” (“Does this train go to Hibiya?”) I liked that sentence and could say it with perfect intonation, just like a native speaker.

I thought I’d try out my new sentence the next day at the train station. Inserting the name of my town, I approached a station employee and asked boldly, “Kono dencha wa Osaka ni ikimasuka?”  “Ie,” (No) came the response. Then followed a lengthy explanation, punctuated with exaggerated hand gestures. He had lost me at “Ie.” I had no idea what his words meant, but I was pretty pleased with myself. My impeccable pronunciation had tricked him into thinking I really did know Japanese!

I Needed a Verbal Shield

Being tall, I was hard to miss out in public. Sometimes men would approach me in an attempt to practice their English. At other times they just wanted to harass me. (Don’t worry, Mom. This didn’t happen very often.)

Since I traveled alone quite a bit, I thought it would be good to have a standard phrase to use with people who made me feel uncomfortable. So one day I asked my teacher for just the right words. “Okina meiwakudesu.” I repeated it back to her. “Yes, that will be good,” she assured me.

I practiced the words in my mind until I knew that I could ward off any obnoxious person who tried to give me trouble. I imagined staring down the perpetrator, fists in a ball, and snarling at him: “OKINA MEIWAKUDESU!” That would get him! (Empowerment is such a wonderful tool.)

What I Really Said

After I’d been back in the States for several years I told a Japanese friend about my verbal shield. I explained that my teacher gave me the words I needed to stand up for myself in a difficult situation. “By the way, how would you translate ‘Okina meiwakudesu’?” I asked.

My friend smiled. “You sure are a bully!”

Oh, great. I’m so glad I never needed to say that out loud!

For the joy of language,
Ginger