Last night, Khatzumoto, a friend, and I sat down for a marathon of the first season of Trick, our favorite mystery-comedy series starring Nakama Yukie and Abe Hiro. I was feeling a bit discouraged because my level of comprehension was the lowest in the group. But after watching nine episodes in a row until the wee hours of the morning, I unexpectedly reached a new milestone last night: I dreamed in Japanese.

Now I didn’t have a dream where everything was in Japanese. But I definitely remember trying to understand or speak real Japanese words in (hopefully) meaningful sentences—just like I’d been trying to understand the dialogue in the show. After six hours of listening, the language had become so familiar that my mind was reproducing it on its own. Cool.

I honestly never thought it would happen so soon. My listening level is still abysmal, my speaking level practically non-existent (although my pronunciation isn’t bad ). Dreaming in Japanese was the last thing I was expecting. But it happened, and (if it hasn’t already) it can happen to you too.

The key, I’ve found is simply listening, for long periods of time. I wasn’t pausing and writing down sentences or anything; we didn’t even have Japanese subtitles turned on. I was just trying to follow the show. Pausing, looking up words and checking subtitles is certainly important, but so is pure continuous listening. The first helps you build up vocabulary and match sounds to words; the second gets you used to real-time speed and rhythm and tests how fast you can recall what you’ve learned.

I’ve gotten pretty good at reading Japanese, but since the last Obon visit to a Japanese friend’s house, I realized: I have to practice this listening thing more if I ever want to carry on an actual conversation. Well, I’m off to the video store now to pick up the second season of Trick and hoping for some more pleasant dreams in Japanese.

So I was feeling stuck lately—worrying about how inadequate I am at speaking in everyday conversations, not sure how to say something in different ways or different degrees of politeness, and frustrated that the materials I have (e.g. manga, magazines, even bilingual Japanese/English books) seem a bit too advanced for my level right now. How to bridge that gap between beginner and intermediate!?

Then I stumbled upon something that’s perfect for me in the most unlikely of places. 中国語に夢中 (”Engrossed in Chinese”) is a beginner book for Japanese learners of Chinese made up of simple dialogues and accompanying cartoons. It ended up in our home because Khatzumoto is learning Chinese right now (laddering up from Japanese). I, on the other hand, am using it in the opposite way that its authors intended: as a way to learn Japanese! My Chinese is intermediate level, so I can use the Chinese part to check my understanding of the Japanese. It’s a fun alternative to English translations.

Oddly, I find it to be an ideal tool for learning Japanese conversation. First of all, since it’s a book for beginners of Chinese, the Japanese translations reflect the simplicity of the Chinese dialogues. In addition, because of some accident in format, there are two Japanese translations of the same Chinese dialogue—one that’s more colloquial (in the cartoon version) and one that’s more polite (in the text-only version). I guess cartoons (where the visual humor has more of an impact) lend themselves more to slang while pure text tends to be more formal.

This coincidence is fabulous for me! For each piece of dialogue, I have two examples of how to say the same thing. Score! Because of the comic format, I also get a more gradual introduction to humor in Japanese. I mean, sometimes the humor is a bit flat (as textbook material can often be) or I still don’t get it, but it’s definitely good training for recognizing and judging comedy in another language. In addition, there are short articles on aspects of Chinese culture at the end of each dialogue. The writing here is more formal and uses longer sentences and more advanced vocabulary than the dialogue, so it could help me prepare to read Japanese books after I finish the dialogue. And when I’ve mastered Japanese (*sigh* hopefully that day isn’t too far away) I can go back and use this book to beef up my Chinese.

Yes, that’s right. Japanese materials for learning other languages can be just as valuable for learning Japanese itself. The programs on NHK (Japan’s public television station) to help viewers learn English, French, and Chinese are a perfect example of this. Often the presenters spend more time discussing (in Japanese) the grammar points or the meaning of sentences than they do speaking the target language! If you live in Japan, you can browse the language magazine section of your local bookstore and find magazines devoted to various languages (English is the most common). Inside you’ll find dialogues, celebrity interviews, newspaper articles, stories, and even recipes of varying levels of difficulty that are often accompanied by Japanese translations. NHK also publishes excellent, short (and cheap!) serialized books (a new one for each month) for learning other languages.

I don’t expect that this particular book will be of value to anyone else—it reflects my own current needs and my interest in China. But I hope the principle at least can carry over. Acquiring one language doesn’t mean you have to ignore other interests, areas of knowledge or countries that seem to be unrelated. Finally, on a more general level, never be afraid to try something new and unorthodox when other things aren’t working. As long as it has Japanese in it and it appeals to you, you’re going to learn something.

This is a guest article by Momoko, Khatzumoto’s…how do you say…”special lady”. This was meant to be a regular article, but it unintentionally turned into a book recommendation. In keeping with the other book recommendations, we will later discuss the cons as well as the pros of this book…Probably. Maybe.

At first I was scared sheetless stiff at the thought of using a monolingual Japanese dictionary. My husband encouraged me from early on, but I was very skeptical. I didn’t think I knew enough vocabulary. I couldn’t even understand Japanese children’s books written for 2-year-olds without some serious effort…still can’t; [Note: I attempted to soothe her ego with a reminder that these books are either designed to be read to children by parents, or are written in all-hiragana — which is really hard for even Japanese adults to read. Certainly I find them quite unwieldy — Khatzumoto]. So the idea of looking up a word I didn’t know…only to encounter 10 times as many words I didn’t know in the definition…and then looking all those up only to encounter even MORE new words, and so on, seemed like opening a Pandora’s box of horrors. My husband tried to console me by telling me it would all come around in a circle to the starting point…there were only a limited number of words that could be used to describe a concept. But that just made me feel even more uneasy. If I didn’t understand any of the words in that circle anyway, how was that going to help?

At first I dipped my toe into the swimming pool with the Sanseido dictionary—a ‘concise’ Japanese-Japanese dictionary for adults. But I still found the definitions to be a bit wordy and confusing and difficult to navigate, since the search box works best with hiragana and I didn’t know the furigana on all the kanji. I went back to the trusty kanji-reading “Translate Words” function in WWWJDIC and contented myself with its wealth of English definitions. Once in a while I would salve over my guilt by cutting and pasting the simplest Japanese definitions from Sanseido (that I never fully understood and never cross-referenced). I’d stick them in the bottom of my SRS answers, telling myself that someday I’d know more words and those cryptic definitions would make sense…

But I have finally seen the light. My husband helped me select a Japanese-Japanese dictionary from the bookstore that is made for Japanese children: チャレンジ小学国語辞典（チャレンジ-しょう-がく-こく-ご-じ-てん）/The Challenge Elementary School Japanese Dictionary, published by Benesse, and edited by 湊吉正（みなと　よしまさ）, fourth edition. It has furigana on EVERY kanji in the book (woo hoo!), so I’m never lost in how to pronounce what I am reading or in looking up new words I encounter. The definitions are concise and clear, and there are helpful example sentences for each entry. I’ve been surprised at how much I already do understand, despite my limited knowledge of vocabulary. Sometimes I check my understanding with a Japanese-English dictionary, but usually I’ve already guessed right from the context—the multiple synonyms and the way the word is used in the example sentence(s). [Note: By having simple definitions and furigana on every kanji, this dictionary makes up for not being electronic — Khatzumoto].

And best of all, I no longer see the cross-referencing process as a burden…it’s a bonus—a way to easily and quickly mine new sentences for my SRS. Whenever I look up a word in my Japanese-Japanese dictionary, I enter the example sentence. Then I look up a word that’s new in that sentence (or from the definition) and use the example sentence(s) from THAT, and so on… Life is sweet.

Here is a sample page (click to enlarge):

Momoko, Japanese learner and wife of Khatzumoto, discusses the philosophy of Japanese verbs.

Only verb

The first thing you need to know about Japanese sentences is that you only need the verb for the thought to be complete, as Tae Kim stresses in his excellent website. That’s it. You can drop any other information that is already understood through context. For instance, if you want to know if someone has eaten, you don’t have to ask, “Have you eaten yet?” All you have to say is:

食べましたか。 Eaten?

Likewise, that person can simply answer:

食べました。　Eaten.

The rest of a sentence in Japanese merely introduces, clarifies or emphasizes information. If something has already been mentioned, or is obvious, you can drop it. Try to be as minimalist as you can when you compose sentences and don’t put forth any unnecessary effort. For instance, a lot of English speakers make the mistake of repeating the ‘sentence subject’ (I, you, he, she…) again and again in each sentence. While technically each sentence is correct, the overall effect is wordy (and in the case of referring to oneself sounds egotistical):

私は日本語を勉強しています。私は日本語が好きです。

I am studying Japanese.　I like Japanese.

As long as you haven’t been speaking about another person, it will be obvious you are talking about yourself when you make statements. You can also try mentioning ‘Japanese’ only once. Simply say:

日本語を勉強しています。好きです。

Am studying Japanese. Like (it).

The force … save you it can

You probably have noticed by now, that although the verb is the core of the sentence, it always comes last in order. That can be challenging when you are reading, listening or trying to compose a sentence since you won’t be able to tie it together until the end. You have to think of making meaning in a whole new way.

We are used to the idea that first is the best or most important, but in Japanese you could say the reverse is true. Although the other parts of the sentence offer clues along the way, the key that makes sense of them all is saved until the end. It’s similar to the way Yoda speaks in Star Wars, as when he tells Luke Skywalker, “Impatient you are.” Notice how Yoda could just as well say something like, “Patient…you are not,” and Luke wouldn’t be able guess what was meant until he heard the end.

In fact, as Khatzumoto pointed out to me, kabuki theatre often exploits this built-in suspense. Elaborately long sentences can tease the audience as they wait for the final pay-off. For example, an actor could say something like this:

Speaking of Katsumoto…the one who so recently…and to our great shock…and the humiliation of the whole town…and the dishonor of his family…on this very day…on the eve of his mother’s birthday…with disregard for public sanctions…and with reckless abandon…so that all could hear within a twenty ri radius…so that the farmers in the neighboring town stopped planting rice to listen…and producing an unmentionable smell…which made even the dogs hide their faces…loudly farted.

You can think of the sentence as setting the stage with all the necessary elements (characters, scenery, mood) before the action brings them to life, like a hand animates puppets. It’s not like in English where someone or something always takes the spotlight and exists or acts independently.

In Japanese, then, it is always the verb force which acts—people and things manifest that action. Just as Yoda taught Luke Sky-walker, English speakers learning Japanese need to let go of the idea of personal control and let ‘the force’ take over and do the work.

Baby steps

Let’s see how this difference plays out in a simple sentence about our favorite Jedi master:

ヨーダさんは五時に起きます。

Though we can translate it as “Yoda-san wakes up at five o’clock,” that is not exactly what the original is saying. Though it sounds awkward in English, the meaning is more like: “As for Yoda, at five o’clock, wakes up.”

With a slightly different nuance, we can also re-arrange the sentence as:

五時にヨーダさんは起きます。

Or, “At five o’clock, as for Yoda-san, wakes up.”

As important as Yoda seems to the sentence, ultimately even he is a prop attached to the main thought, just like five o’clock. In Japanese, the focus is waking up. Yoda and five o’clock are both elements dependent on that action. Their tags (はand に) mark their different roles in showing how the getting up is done, but do not necessarily mean one element is more important than the other.

All this, of course, indicates a different way of looking at the world, where action and being happen through and despite us. Thought-provoking, it is. Welcome to Japanese!

by Momoko