It's not you, it's me.

So it's been a while and so much has happened. I'm sorry I've been away, but thanks to prodding (thank you Katie), I will fill you in on all that's been going on over the next few posts.


Jibiki-san


I've been taking Japanese lessons. Well to call them lessons is a stretch. They're free lessons that I get from the Narita International Association. They have a cultural exchange program where they pair up volunteer Japanese teachers, with forefingers.

My sensei is Jibiki.

Now she is wonderful. A 50+ year old mother and wife (nearly every Japanese woman's occupation and/or goal). She is pleasant and kind, and doesn't speak a lick of English. She can understand what I'm saying some of the time, but can't communicate back to me. Needless to say, this has proven to be a hurdle in my Japanese education.

I know what you're thinking, "Natasha, you don't speak Japanese but you teach English. Why the double standard?" Well, in Japan people learn English from the time they're in preschool. It's a required language in elementary school, Jr. High and High School. And if you want to get into a good College, you need to be damn near fluent in it. Not only that, but this culture uses English (more Engrish than English) in most advertising, and they have adapted the ever-so complicated and evolving Japanese scripts into Romanji - which is the Roman alphabet to represent the pronunciation of words.

In short the students I teach have better leg up on their language acquisition than I do.

Jibiki is so nice. She tries with gestures and the five English words she's retained over the years to teach me. But it's not working. So, I broke up with her.

Turns out the whole, "it's not you, it's me," break-up doesn't translate.

I couldn't have picked a worse time to give her the news. It was at last week's class and she had brought tea and a sweet treat for me to demonstrate a conversation point (at least I think that's what we were doing). And with every frustrating exchange, and furrowed brow, I knew that I couldn't endure another week not learning anything...no matter how awesome she was.

So after the class I told her, in my kindergarten English, that it was over.

Natasha: Jibiki-san.
Jibiki: Hai (yes)
Natasha: Japanese stop. Natasha-san busy. So sorry. I like you. You, me friends?
Jibiki: ....
Natasha: (gesturing) Natasha finish. No Japanese. Very busy. No study Japanese. Quit?
Jibiki: Hai, Hai.

She looked so defeated and upset. I didn't know how to tell her it wasn't her fault, that I needed a teacher that was adept in teaching retards and who spoke more English.

After the exchange we went down to the Narita International Association office, where we told the representative that I was quitting. (What Jibiki didn't know is that I already spoke with her). Thankfully the representative could translate my apologies and tell Jibiki I was sorry and wanted to remain friends and that it was me, and not her.

This fortuneately translated. She seemed to be less angry. But I could tell she was still upset when the representative translated the following to me.

Rep: Jibiki says, that's ok.
Natasha: Good, good. I'm really sorry.
Rep: She also says that you call your self san.
Natasha: What?
Rep: Natasha-san.
Natasha: Oh, yes.
Rep: She said don't call yourself san. Only other people do that.
Natasha: Oh!
Rep: When you do that it's silly.

I looked a Jibiki and realized that she thought I was a bad student and she was trying to make me feel bad. I didn't feel bad, I felt relief. But for her, I acted my heart out. I wanted her to feel better at any cost. So I lowered my head in shame and repeatedly said, "Gomenasai, gomenasai." Sorry, sorry.

Seeing my sorrow (I'm such a good actress) the receptionist and Jibiki negotiate my departure - something I was not expecting. So as a result of my Oscar winning performance is that they decided my quitting was actually just giving notice.

My last day of class isn't until July 7th.