Whenever I travel, I like to make at least something of an attempt to learn the language. That's how I ended up learning the Greek alphabet oh so many years ago, even though I couldn't really speak the language. I actually got decent enough at it that I could read street signs and menus, though that didn't necessarily know that I knew what I was reading.
This latest trip to Japan was no different, so I asked the Mild Ex to lend me her Japanese text books (she'd studied some in college). She also helped teach me a few words (sumimasen is incredibly useful), though what she taught me really didn't sink in until I was in the country and people were saying these things to me. And Japanese is a language that has three distinct sets of characters, so I knew I wasn't going to learn it all in the time before my trip. I did, however, learn enough hiragana to be able to read some signs, and I knew enough to ask things like, "excuse me, where is the train (station)?" It was helpful.
Don't get me wrong, it's not like I was suddenly fluent, and I did more than my fair share of staring stupidly at someone or shrugging my shoulders in confusion. That's why I found it particularly funny when our in-country friend turned to me and said, "okay, so when you guys are on your own, it's your job to handle the speaking." Actually, it was more like between me and my travel buddy, it was patently obvious that he wasn't a local, so people would hope that I knew enough Japanese to converse with them. Under normal circumstances, most people wouldn't assume I was a local, but given the company I kept, it was more like wishful thinking that I was of some sort of Japanese descent.
What's even funnier is that when we were talking about this, someone said, "well, you kind of look like someone from Okinawa." I had no idea what that meant exactly, though I suppose I could have just looked in the mirror to get some idea. Still, I found it really funny that I was somehow magically transformed into a local. This was doubly funny to me because I have had people just naturally assume that I am Filipino or Khmer, to the point where they immediately started speaking to me in their native tongue. And frankly, I didn't really think much of it because I was fairly certain that something in my speech or my mannerisms would give me away as a gaijin (foreigner).
Well, I was wrong. We walked into a random restaurant looking for dinner, and we had to chance the fact that we spoke little to no Japanese. Unfortunately, they were full, but the hostess tried to tell us something. I was trying to listen to what she was saying, but I had no clue. And that's when I looked at her; I forget if I was trying to pay closer attention or if I was trying to gesture, but either way, I caught a glimpse of her expression. My friend was standing in front of me, but she was looking directly at me. I don't think I'll ever quite forget the semi-expectant look on her face as she said something in Japanese. It wasn't like she was disappointed or anything, but she clearly was looking at me with the hope that we would be able to communicate. Suddenly, that Okinawa thing came rushing back to me. I guess I can add a new entry to the list of ethnicities for which I have been mistaken: Japanese.
As it is, we didn't have dinner there (they were full, after all), and we found somewhere else to get some grub. It all worked out in the end and I don't think we missed out on anything because of my limited Japanese, but it was pretty amusing to think of myself as Japanese. As it turns, I'm like an Asian chameleon and people will assume I'm a local in a surprising number of Asian countries. Or as a paraphrased Carlos Mencia joke once went (I can't find a good link to it anywhere), "if I'm brown and I go to Florida, I'm Cuban. If I go to New York, I'm Puerto Rican, and if I go to California, I'm Mexican!" Actually, come to think of it, I could probably do that, too ...
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