Nihongo 101: Class Three

Acts 8: 26-31

²⁶And the angel of the Lord spake unto Philip, saying, Arise, and go toward the south unto the way that goeth down from Jerusalem unto Gaza, which is desert. ²⁷And he arose and went: and, behold, a man of Ethiopia, an eunuch of great authority under Candace queen of the Ethiopians, who had the charge of all her treasure, and had come to Jerusalem for to worship, ²⁸was returning, and sitting in his chariot read Esaias the prophet.

²⁹Then the Spirit said unto Philip, Go near, and join thyself to this chariot. ³⁰And Philip ran thither to him, and heard him read the prophet Esaias, and said, Understandest thou what thou readest?

³¹And he said, How can I, except some man should guide me? 

I took one formal Japanese class in 2008. I had studied for a couple of months beforehand, though, so I already knew a little bit when I joined. The first few classes were a review of hiragana and katakana, which I had learned already, and the basic Japanese sentence structure, which I had found out from a Japanese linguistics book. But since I was working full-time and taking graduate courses in the evenings—and, to be completely honest, because I found the class challenge-less, terribly boring, and a waste of time even if Ben what’s-his-name was in the same class—I dropped it mid-semester and never studied Japanese again. Until I moved to Japan.

Everything I’ve learned, though, has been through conversations with Japanese people or textbooks I read myself. Sometimes I wonder why I continue to go to the community classes every Monday night if I always leave almost in tears and with a headache. But I feel like if I keep going, surely something, sometime is going to stick.

I have switched teachers: I don’t know if my other teacher who gave me Kuma-san to Tsukine-san requested that I be moved, but two weeks ago I was handed over to the “director,” whose table was empty. He is a nice man, in his 60s, tall and pleasant and always smiling, even when I’m staring so hard at the board I could drill holes in it. (He also has absolutely atrocious handwriting—I have to ask him to re-write half of what he writes because he slurs all the letters together. Note to self during class: write legibly.) But it was a fairly good first class. We talked about time and I learned time expressions like “the day before yesterday” (ototoi), “the day after tomorrow” (asatte) and “this morning” (kesa, not “kono asa,” as I had mistakenly thought). I was feeling pretty good when I left.

Tonight, however, I felt that old familiar frustrated prickle behind my eyelids again. I can’t express the frustration I feel: There is so much I want to say and ask but can’t! I started making a list during class. Expressions include:

“I don’t understand why this is wrong.”

“If I say . . . is it right?”
“What’s another example of that?”/”Can you give me an example, please?”

“I don’t know where the words divide” (Japaneseiswrittenlikethisandifyoudon’tknowwhichwordiswhichyouendupveryconfused—ne!?)

Verb

Noun

Adjective

Grammar

Correct/incorrect

There are two (well, more, but two that are used the most) ways of conjugating verbs. One is the ~masu form, which is used in more formal situations. The other is the plain form, which, obviously, is used between friends and family. So “I eat” will conjugated in all the tenses (present, past, continuous, conditional, etc. etc.) at least twice, one in each register.

I’ve learned the ~masu form. It’s been drilled into my head since I-don’t-remember-her-name-Sensei taught it to me two years ago. But I rarely hear it, since almost everyone I know uses the plain form both between themselves and with me. It’s frustrating not to be able to reply to them in the same register that they are using with me (akin to me having to reply in “ustedes” instead of “vosotros” in Spain, because I had just never learned that form . . . ). So tonight I had it in my idea that Sensei was going to help me with the plain form of verbs.

We talked for a bit and then shifted over to reviewing my last week’s homework (shukudai). I had written all of my sentences using both the “~masu” and plain form of verbs, as practice. To explain, I pointed at myself, pointed at the teacher, pointed up, and said, “Watashi wa sensei ni…..’hatarakimasu.’” (I to the teacher….’work.’) Then I pointed at myself and away to another spot parallel to my chest. “Watashi wa tomodachi ni…..’hataraku.’” (I to my friend….’work.’). Then I wrote in my notebook, “hatarakimasu, hatarakimashita, hatarakimasen, hatarakimasen deshita” (I work, I worked, I don’t work, I didn’t work). “Kore o wakarimasu” (I understand this.) Then I pointed at “hataraku, hatakanai, hataraita, hatarakanakatta” (ditto, in plain form). “Kore o wakarunai” (I don’t understand this).

He proceeded to teach “~masu” all night long.

Later, I was given a worksheet in which I was to read a sentence, insert the correct particle (ha, ga, wa, no, ni, etc.) and conjugate the verb according to tense. I looked at the paper. Not a drop of furigana on the whole thing. Just scary, intimidating, hint-less kanji.

I tried to read the first sentence:

Watashi ( ) something no habeniwa something no karenda ( ) ( ) arimasu.

This is what I understood:

I ….. there is.

I looked at number two.

Watashi ... dake Tokyo deizunitando ( ) ( ) kotoga arimasu.

I .... Tokyo ... Disneyland ... there is.

Sensei pointed at the verb and I think said something about conjugating it. I wanted to conjugate them in the plain form, but I didn't know how. I also know there are verbs in different categories (like the –ar, -er, and –ir verbs in Spanish, I think . . . ) which won't all conjugate the same.

That’s when the Bible story hit me. “How am I supposed to do this,” I thought to myself, “if no one has ever taught me how to do it?!” I felt like I was being tested on something I never learned, expected to perform something I had never practiced.

I politely explained, in broken, broken Japanese punctuated with sign language, that I hadn't studied a lot of Japanese, that I'm not stupid, but I just haven't had the opportunity yet to learn it well. Sensei mo nodded politely, and we changed activities.

My Japanese studies are not progressive. They are not linear. They jump from topic to topic, tense to tense, random vocabulary word to random vocabulary word. And I feel frustrated.

Maybe I should have stayed in that Japanese class at UNCG after all, instead of thinking I knew everything.