Lost (But Not Really) in Translation

Standing in front of the first vending machine I saw in Tokyo, I realized something: all those late-night Duolingo lessons were either about to pay off, or I was going to end up with a mystery drink I didn’t want.

I was in an entirely new country, almost 7,000 kilometers away from where I live. It wasn’t the first time I’ve been that far from home, but it was the first time I had been that far away from my parents. It seemed like every international trip I had been on with the two people I relied on, were essentially just building up to this; the week I could prove my independence. Well, not entirely; I still had my grandparents and cousin with me (and my uncle on the way), but I still felt incredibly nervous and alone.

I anticipated the stress at least a few months before we landed. And what does anyone do to prepare for exploring a new country other than learning to speak in their own rhythm? Of course, it wouldn’t be easy; but a couple of months was certainly enough time to pick up on basic phrases, right? Boy, am I venturous. 

This magical, green app seemed like the perfect tool to help me prepare for my adventure. I’ve always enjoyed watching Japanese anime, and learning about their culture, so maybe that helped me get the hang of it faster. But having a knack for languages, I knew I’d pick it up anyhow. What I didn’t know, however, was how difficult it would be to learn all three of the three scripts that make up the Japanese language. That too, learn to read sentences that incorporate multiple scripts together? To this day, I have barely reached the surface level of Kanji (aka the ‘Chinese alphabet’): the deadliest of the three. Hiragana felt like learning a cute set of swirls, Katakana was like mastering sharp little zigzags, but Kanji? Kanji was the boss level. It’s like each character is a whole picture, a tiny piece of art with a hidden story. Imagine my shock when I found out that saying “I am a high school student” (22 letters in english) turns into “高校生” which is only 3 characters! I had a hard time learning to read Japanese, but every heroic arc has ups and downs. My ups would be my conversational lessons, which thankfully seemed easier than the written words.

Even though I covered innumerable lessons, only so many of them helped me hold an actual, relevant conversation with locals. I couldn’t go up to a merchant and say, “The cat eats an apple,” or “I am a lawyer” and expect to buy a souvenir. Unfortunately for me, Duolingo didn’t think “Where is the nearest bus stop?” is as important as declaring that I’m a penguin. This didn’t stop me from using whatever I had learnt, though. I managed to compliment many shopkeepers’ hats, and tell some baristas that they had pretty hair. One of my favorite memories in Japan is of nattering away with a taxi driver about how fast the Shinkansens (Japanese bullet trains) are. I’m sure my sentences were structured funnily, but we understood each other; and to me, that was all that mattered. Translating the conversation for my cousin-sister felt euphoric; like I had the world in my hands for that 20 minute drive. 

Everywhere I went, I bowed saying “Arigato Gosaimasu!” regardless of whether I purchased anything or used any utilities; as did everyone else. The culture is so different from what I’m used to seeing, and I kept saying to myself, “I could get used to this!” The co-existence of modern technology and deeply rooted traditions was so bizarre to me, how right outside of a beautiful shrine you’d find a smoothly-operated train station with people in suits rushing past tourists in kimonos. Even though the country is so advanced in terms of innovation, it’s rare to find fluent English-speakers. There’s so much beauty in preserving a 2,000 year old language to such an extent. The next time I visit Japan, I’ll know enough Japanese to find my way around Tokyo alone, without a translator app ready on my phone in case of a linguistic emergency.