As I’m writing this, I’m also preparing for the new school year at Notre Dame. I’ve had a week to flip my cultural switch and settle back in to my American habits. In that week, I had time to relax, unwind, and think about everything that happened during my six weeks of study. I learned a lot in class, but the most valuable things I took away from my experience weren’t linguistic in nature.
At the time I really didn’t realize just how challenging and sometimes uncomfortable it was to live in a country where practically no one speaks your native tongue. I didn’t realize how nearly overwhelming all of the kanji and new customs and attempted conversations were until I came back home. Being able to speak English again was a breath of fresh air. In comparison to having to navigate all of the new experiences in Tokyo, simple things like small talk and asking strangers questions in English seemed so much easier. I felt more assured, as silly as that might sound.
That said, I definitely picked up some funny quirks in my six weeks that have stuck with me a week later. I still bow a little bit when introducing myself or thanking someone. I drift to the left when walking anywhere rather than sticking to the right. Just little mundane things like that. My favorite quirk is how I mix up English writing and Japanese writing sometimes. Katakana and hiragana are both phonetic scripts, and they both have symbols for “to.” The Japanese “to,” however, it more like “toe.” Regardless, I got into a habit of writing quickly and writing the hiragana “to,” then the katakana “to,” and then finally writing in English. And it’s still happening.
All this rambling is to say that I really think this experience will stick with me academically and personally for the rest of my life. It seems strange to say it, but I think those six weeks are a part of me now. It wasn’t just fun, it was formative, and I think what I took away will help me shape my future. Grandiose proclamations aside, I am truly grateful for my time in Tokyo, and I can’t wait to go back.
I set my goals high, and I’m not sure I met them. I have yet to take the language placement test to see if I can take Advanced French this semester. I can certainly read, write, and speak better. I solidified the French I’ve learned thus far to the point that vocabulary tends to be the only reading obstacle, and I can discuss films and literature at a higher level than before. The disparity between my initial goals and where I’m at lies in a lack of fluidity. I don’t speak, read, or write as fast as I’d like to. Luckily, that’s the sort of thing that just takes practice.
I learned more than language, and more than culture. French culture differs from American, but not enough to make the country feel alien. I adjusted fairly quickly to the pace of life and to the cultural expectation that everyone should be able to contribute to conversation. More consequentially, I internalized my national identity and felt more globally aware to a surprising degree. To international students, I represented both myself and the US. Rather than the futility I sometimes feel at being only one person in a world with endless complications, my actions seemed important. My sense of responsibility to the world was revitalized. Earning the grant in the first place was an accomplishment in my eyes, but the sense of confidence that traveling abroad affords was a still larger reward.
This experience acts as an excellent springboard. I will continue to study French this semester and of course during my Spring semester in Paris, so the immediate future of my French studies is secured and promising. The possibility of living in a francophone country grows more likely. Ideally, I’ll work as a traveling writer of some kind. With the continued study of French and the passion it inspires to learn about other cultures and languages, I set myself up to be more valuable in that field. My family just moved to Germany, meaning I’ll see a lot of Europe over the next few years. Learning French, picking up some basic German, I’ll nourish what this experience kindled in me.
Now let’s talk food. There are four major differences between American food and Japanese food: content, price, size, and flavor.
Content
This one is pretty straight forward. American and Japanese food are obviously different. The dishes vary, but the common ingredients vary as well. It’s not at all uncommon in Japan to eat a vegetarian (not vegan) meal. Rice is what you typically fill up on, and meat typically acts as more of a side dish or accent flavor. In the good ol’ US of A meat is usually the main attraction and everything else is an accessory to it.
On top of that, there’s a difference in what meats are common. I think it’s fair to say that America gives you a wealth of meat options at varying prices. You can fairly easily find anything from chicken to buffalo if you look hard enough. In Japan, this doesn’t apply. Chicken is common in Tokyo as well, but possibly even more common is pork. Pork seemed to be the go to meat in my experience. Beef, an American staple, was woefully uncommon in comparison. The texture and quality of beef was, in my opinion, quite a bit different from what we Yanks are used to.
Another major difference is the price and prevalence of vegetables. In most restaurants in America you can pick up a (seemingly) healthy salad alongside your main dishes. However, that convention doesn’t exist in Japan mainly because vegetables are comparatively expensive. Meat and fish tend to run at cheaper prices for what you get.
Finally, dairy products are also pretty rare. Cheese doesn’t really have a place in Japanese cooking, and even the smallest pack of cubes in the grocery store is comparatively expensive. You’d be hard pressed to find a carton of milk, and more processed items like yogurt simply don’t seem to exist.
Price
You may have noticed that I kept using the word “comparatively” in the last section. That’s because on the whole, Japanese food is much less expensive than American food. You can get fairly large meals for cheap by our standards. If you’re spending around ten dollars on a single meal, you’re in a pricier restaurant.
Gyoza, rice, and a salad cost me about six US dollars
Honestly, this point was my absolute favorite part of living in Japan for a bit. Anything from breads to a full meal were very affordable. However, this only applies to Japanese cooking. If you want Western foods like hamburgers or pizza the price goes up. Also, strangely enough, drinks were fairly pricey. Even something as simple as a fountain drink poured into a paper cup. To add insult to injury, you can’t get refills for free, so that was a bit of a bummer.
Size
A medium pizza from Domino’s. Yes. A medium. And no. My hand isn’t freakishly large.
Before I got to Tokyo, I expected all the serving sizes to be considerably smaller. This is somewhat true in that Western food portions are significantly smaller than what we’re used to, but when you buy Japanese cuisine you can typically get a hefty amount of food. Hamburgers, pizza, fries, etc are doled out in minimal amounts. In fact, it’s rare to find more than two size options for our typical side snacks. The restaurants like to call them medium and large, but in my opinion they’re actually small and medium.
That said, drinks are always a lot smaller. Even the largest of sizes I’ve seen have been smaller than a regular sized fountain drink from Whataburger. Did I mention there are no refills? Because there aren’t.
My last meal in Japan consisted of ramen, gyoza, and a coke all for around eight dollars
Flavor
A blueberry float from First Kitchen
You never realize how much sugar Americans use until you take a step back. That’s the first big difference I would point out between common flavors in American and Japanese cooking. The two styles share a love of salty and savory flavoring, but Japanese cooking usually doesn’t infuse as much sugar into sweets. I was often left feeling that the desserts I bought were almost bland. Even whipped cream from Starbucks has next to no sugar in it. I also noticed that sweets tend to be fluffier or lighter in flavor compared to their American counterparts.
Chinese citizens’ opinions of the US varies dramatically based on their education, age, and international experience. In general, I noticed younger Chinese individuals (middle school) tend to hold exaggerated ideas of how lax or lazy American students are, most likely because of how grueling their own education system is. Chinese middle school students seem to think American students don’t have much (or any) homework, and so they can spend their days relaxing, working, or pursuing extracurricular. Compared to their own workload, they aren’t far from the truth. These students don’t necessarily view American students as lazy, just the beneficiaries of a more forgiving and accommodating school schedule.
College educated Chinese citizens have a more informed and appreciate attitude towards American education, especially regarding how American students apply for college. In China, one’s college admittance is essentially entirely dependent on one standardized test, called the “High Test”. This test is only given once a year, spans multiple days, and is considered the most important event in every student’s life. Needless to say, the pressure of this test is difficult to handle, so Chinese students seem to prefer the holistic college admissions approach of the US.
Adult Chinese citizens have the most varied opinions of the US; those who have never gone to the US or follow Chinese media closely have many criticisms of the US, but also points of praise. The most common criticism is of how ineffectual or political system is, as well as how dangerous our permissiveness of weapons is. However, they respect and envy the political freedom US citizens enjoy, as well as our right to openly and harshly criticize our own government. This is most likely because the Chinese government does not permit open criticism; from the Chinese adults I spoke to, it seems though citizens are allowed to make suggestions for improvement and correction, but they cannot openly protest their government or endeavor for political reform.
Perhaps one of the highlights of visiting Beijing is the opportunity to experience the world-renowned Peking Duck. This dish is a roasted duck, finely sliced and served with thin wheat or corn pancakes, spring onion, cucumber, and sweet bean sauce. The duck is sliced so the ratio of each slice is approximately half skin, half meat. Well prepared duck is characterized by skin with an outer crisp but moist interior, soft and tender meat, and subtle hint of spices (as to not drown out the distinctive flavor of the duck).Peking Duck is often consumed in celebratory settings. One duck can go for as much as 200 RMB, which can feed 2 or 3 adults.
The restaurant we went to claims that every duck is raised for exactly the same number of days before being slaughtered. The duck is then marinated with spices and herbs for several hours, before being roasted in a large fire oven. This dish has been prepared this way since the Southern and Northern Dynasties, dating back to the 13th century.
A topic that has been a sensitive issue for some time now is the China – Taiwan relationship; specifically, whether Taiwan is officially part of China, or whether it is an independent country. Mainland China considers Taiwan to be part of the People’s Republic of China, while Taiwan considers itself independent and with legal governance of its own affairs. Many countries, even the US, do not politically recognize Taiwan out of fear of provoking mainland China. During this program, I had the opportunity to discuss this issue with both Chinese citizens and a Taiwanese citizen,
The first Chinese person I asked this topic about was a young Chinese teacher, in her mid-20s, who had never traveled outside mainland China. Her attitude reflected the general Chinese government’s stance, that Taiwan was officially a part of the People’s Republic of China, but with its own government and regulations. She compared Taiwan to one of the United State’s territories.
The second Chinese person I asked was another Chinese teacher, in her late 20s, who had spent the past several years in the US. Though she too recognized Taiwan as officially part of China, see seemed to empathize with those who considered Taiwan independent. Her perspective seemed to be influenced by her time in the US, as many Asian-Americans (especially from Taiwan) view Taiwan is politically independent, but only unofficially.
The final person I talked to was actually a teacher from Taiwan, who of course believed Taiwan to be fully independent from mainland China. She expressed how China had essentially no official political or cultural influence in Taiwan, but could influence Taiwan’s politics by exerting pressure on other countries. For example, the USA does not officially recognize Taiwan out of fear of provoking China; since China is such a dominant economic and military force in the world, most other developed countries are sensitive about broaching the subject.
In general, the political relationship between Taiwan and China is murky, depending on who you ask. Chinese media and Taiwanese media have convinced their respective citizens of what status they should proclaim, but for third parties, consideration is given to the political and economic ramifications of taking a specific stance.
Reflect on your language learning and acculturation during your SLA Grant experience.
Overall, this summer has been an overwhelming positive experience for me and I’m really glad I had the chance to engage in another culture and broaden my language skills. I think that the improvement in language acquisition would depend on the type of program and the environment/activities that the person partook in over the summer. For me, my ICU Summer Course class was heavily emphasized on reading and writing rather than speaking. For example, they enabled me to form opinions on more complicated topics, and introduced me to class presentations in Japanese. While I have improved in my language skills, it was not in a direction that I expected.
Reflect on your SLA Grant experience overall
It was interesting to note the differences and similarities between Japanese culture and American culture. Even doing something mundane and ordinary like taking the public transportation is an adventure in and of itself. There are so many subtle customs that is woven into the everyday life activities of the people there, as in a proper way to do things and the reasoning behind it that take foreigners a while to figure out. However, for all the differences that exists, I’m still very amazed at the similarities. While I did have some really interesting conversation with the locals, I wished I could have more. I think there are definitely language study opportunities in the daily life activities, and in local resources that are not as readily accessible elsewhere, such as a local bookstore with authentic materials.
How do you plan to use your language and intercultural competences in the future?
I plan to take the Japanese reading class this semester, and the translation class next semester. I’m very excited to apply what I learned in the reading class and broaden my vocabulary in the language. Through this summer experience, I renewed my love for Japanese and am very motivated to improve my language skills. I learned about the historical similarities between the Asian languages, and am considering exploring other Asian languages in addition to Japanese in the future. I really like Tokyo as a city overall, and would love to have the opportunity to live and work there for a period of time in my life.
I hardly noticed my French improving this week. My weak point has been slowness of speech, which I couldn’t abide in the rush of my last days in Tours.
I either spoke quickly or in English. This became most pronounced Friday evening, when I wound up chatting with a French soldier in Place Plume–the common nickname for Place Plumereau in downtown Tours. I spoke mostly French to him and he spoke mostly English to me, but we didn’t slow down to think of words we didn’t know. I recognize that I have plenty to learn, but this encounter gave me confidence in my ability to communicate resourcefully. We were able to discuss his views on the French army, students abroad, and globalization without much complication. Most of it can be summarized with his declaration that students are “the ones doing the real good.”
That conversation, held just before I said all my goodbyes and walked wistfully home, capped off a weeklong embrace of the Loire Valley’s simple beauty.
Tuesday night, out at the Guingette, I decided to test in conversation two words I learned a few weeks ago–mec, and the verb kiffer. I had already asked the opinions of my host family, who said both are fairly innocuous. Kiffer could be translated as “to dig” in the beatnik sense, so I said je le kiffe in reference to rock music, and the guy I spoke with hardly noticed. I did not have the same luck with mec, which means something like “man” or “dude.”
Like “man,” one’s intonation decides whether the word is familiar or aggressive. The same guy had changed the topic to a recent breakup, something he only trusted me with because of the wine he’d been nursing. I’m used to hearing mec in French rap songs, so I said it with accidental force when I told him ah mec, c’est fou. If I understood correctly, he thought I found him stupid for something he told his ex, and he walked away.
Wednesday, I went on the Institute excursion to Amboise, a beautiful town with a château set prominently above everything. I could imagine riding a horse up the cobblestone ramps leading to the elevated château grounds. Before visiting the château however, we stopped at the château du Clos Lucé–the home of Leonardo da Vinci. Seeing his personal chapel, his workshop, his inventions exhibited throughout his basement and his gardens, made the visit to his grave at the château of Amboise especially impactful.
Chez da VinciSon atelierLa tombe d’un brave homme
That night, a friend and I sat outside La Cathédrale Saint-Gatien de Tours to watch a light show put on almost every night between July and September. It loosely depicts the history of Tours, ranging back to western Europe during Ancient Grecian times. It’s an awesome spectacle to see the ancient cathedral colored in imaginative scenes.
Le spectacle des lumières
Thursday, I joined a group of small students in making some Galettes des Rois–the traditional cake served at epiphany. I much prefer the flaky simplicity we made to the colorful, sugar-drenched cakes sold at grocery stores.
Friday, I took a tour of L’Abbaye de Marmoutier, one of a limited number of tours offered each year. The site is under excavation and a private school operates among the few of its buildings left standing. We saw archaeologists working in the heat while our guide took us to visit a room designated to St. Martin of Tours. In his later years, he lived as a hermit in this abbey, and prayed in this room. She then walked us along the excavation site to point out the several different styles of architecture used to construct the abbey’s chapels, still discernible in the underground foundations where great halls once stood.
À l’Abbaye de MarmoutierLa chambre de St. Martin de Tours
By chance, I saw one more iconic sight before leaving Tours. Walking with the friendly German student I’ve mentioned before through parts of Tours I hardly frequented, I saw a goat. She told me this was the goat of Tours, walked through town almost nightly by its elderly owner. I hadn’t heard of it until just then, but it seemed believable to me. Through all the late-night revelers, along an alleyway, the goat and its owner disappeared.
Later, after my conversation with the French soldier, a friend and I walked another student home. This student recognized a form clopping ahead of us–the goat!–and then I knew the story must be true. That’s the closest I received to closure. I already want to be back in France.
While Catholics are currently only a small percentage of the total population in Japan, there is a good number of vibrant Catholic communities in Japan. I love to attend masses in Japan for many reasons. On the one hand, I could admire the universality of the Church and notice all of the similarities in the liturgy. On a more practical matter, I could practice my listening skill by listening to the responses and the homily, and practice my reading skill by reading the responses.
Meguro Catholic Church
While I loved all the churches I visited, the church that I went to the most often was St. Ignatius Catholic Church in Yotsuya. This church is attached to Sophia University, and is a large Catholic hub for many communities. They offered masses in English and Japanese masses every Sunday, and Vietnamese, Portuguese, and other languages on some Sundays. Conveniently placed next to the Yotsuya train station, many people gathered here on Sunday for mass, Bible study, and other activities.
St.Ignatius
The other churches that I was able to visit was Meguro Catholic Church, the Franciscan Chapel Center, and the Kichijoji Catholic Church. The Kichijoji Church is the nearest church to where I lived, being two train stations away, and is a local church.
It was interesting to see some cultural differences during the masses, such as no genuflection, but overall, it was inspiring to see the Catholic faith in a different environment.
Guillame Vadot, a professor at Sorbonne, began to film police harassing a woman at a train station. He claims the police spotted him and assaulted him, purposefully breaking his phone in the process.
This happened last September, but since Vadot is appealing to have his case reviewed again after its dismissal in Spring, he appeared in Le Monde. It seemed a curiously small story next to pieces about the recent parliamentary elections and the Paris Accord meetings, so I brought it up in class and at dinner.
In class, many students voiced concern with police violence, particularly Americans. My professor mentioned that police violence has increased in France recently, making it a controversial topic almost to the degree that it is in America. There have already been several protests in 2017, and the swell of defensive sentiment is often attributed to tensions resultant from mass immigration and Marine Le Pen’s politics. Guillaume Vadot’s renewed appeal continues his ongoing fight to voice the concerns of protesters, so his story remains socially relevant.
Amidst all this, I couldn’t understand why Macron intends to order a temporary police state. His intention is contested on TV, in newspapers, even in Snapchat feeds. I asked my host family what such a state would mean.
Although there has been disquietude at the potentially unrestricted liberties of police in Macron’s police state, my host family only expects an increase in police presence. In response to the series of recent terrorist attacks and in defense of a spectacle like the Tour de France, granting more power to the police seems reasonable to them. They said it’s not unusual, just the way it has to be for awhile. I remembered seeing armed policemen outside the train station last week, where usually there were none.
Life in the Loire remains as peaceful as ever, however. Under an intermittently raining sky, I biked along a scenic path to the yet more picturesque gardens of château Villandry, where vegetables of all kinds grow to this day in the potager. Gardens of flowers and spices grow next to it on one side, and on the other, hedges are trimmed in patterns commemorating different kinds of romances (perhaps the most French thing I’ve ever seen). Villandry’s gardens draw more visitors than the château itself, and walking through them with fellow students makes for a wonderful Wednesday afternoon.
Les jardins de VillandryUne boule de glace avec menthe des jardins
The next day, a friend and I spent the afternoon visiting La Musée de Compagnonnage and watching a documentary at Cinéma Studios. The museum commemorates the many craftsmen of Tours throughout history, sitting just across from a basilica. The cinema has its own history, hosting one of the longest-running cinema clubs in France. We watched the documentary without subtitles, and I could understand most of it. This came as a pleasant surprise.
Crée par les charpentiers de ToursUne sculpture à gâteau
I’ve spoken mostly French this week. I moved up a level in class and many of my friends left. Having only two weeks left, I decided to spend my lunches at the Institute with a group of international students who speak French with each other, and in class I refuse to speak English. On one hand, it’s hard to readjust to the constant changes in students. On the other, I feel refocused. Having little interest in new friends, I study more and see the Loire as uncharted again.
I had planned to visit Chambord–the largest château in the Loire Valley–but it rained heavily this weekend. I would only have had a small window to visit due to bus schedules, and without a raincoat, staying home seemed wiser. I read Harry Potter, did my schoolwork, listened to French radio.
All the routine activities that comprise my French studies go significantly further in France. Spending a weekend getting some needed R&R felt just fine. I’ll make the last week count.
