#expat life

Fran has decided that I should start taking the JLPT (Japanese Language Proficiency Test) series. They are labelled JLPT5 through JLPT1, which JLPT1 being the most difficult one. Basically, after you manage to pass JLPT1, most companies will hire you for a Japanese-speaking position.

For a while now, I’ve been studying with the goal of getting better at conversational Japanese so that I can have fewer misunderstandings, manage to make Japanese friends, and basically get through my everyday life with minimal discomfort. I may never be able to get a job here, but I’d like to at least be able to understand those around me and express myself sufficiently.

A lot of schools seem to quantify the following skill levels when it comes to conversational Japanese:

Beginner: Can only do very basic introductions, cannot express oneself but can understand simple instructions and ask simple questions.

Low Intermediate: Can express oneself on known topics and understand discussion. Can ask more complicated questions.

Intermediate: Can learn about unknown topics through question and answer with another person.

Advanced: Can freely express oneself about unknown topics.

So far, I’d say that I’m at the Low Intermediate level. I can definitely understand a lot of what people say to me, mostly picking up on key words and set phrases that I know. However, I have a hard time contributing with my side of the conversation. A lot of the time, I want to express myself further, but find that I don’t know the right vocabulary for what I want to say and end up floundering. When someone introduces something that is as of yet out my knowledge (e.g, political discussions), I have a very hard time understanding what they are trying to ask/tell me and I don’t quite know how to express myself enough to ask the right questions.

Since I learn best by brute force, I’ve been going through vocabulary lists for the JLPT tests. So far, I am about a quarter of the way through JLPT4.

With that in mind, Fran asked me if I’d like to start taking the JLPT series of tests. I can start with JLPT5 and work my way up (hopefully, eventually) to JLPT1. While I don’t think it would really be all that useful to me on my CV, Fran think it’s a good set of goals for me to work towards while we’re here in Japan.

See, for the most part, I’m a housewife. And I don’t mean to demean housewives everywhere, but sometimes I really wish I was back at work doing work-things, making work-friends, and generally feeling important and smart.

Not that I don’t still feel like I’m smart, it’s just that I don’t care to sit around and discuss the minute details of child-rearing with another mother when I couldn’t care less what she is doing and why she’s doing it.

[I feel like that’s what a lot of my mama-tomo conversations revolve around. Oh you’re feeding her such-and-such? But why, isn’t it too EARLY? Or maybe you should have switched to such-and-such by now…? Cue the massive eyeroll and generally apathy on my part.]

But anyway, long story short (after having written quite a bit on all this), I want to start taking these tests. It will give me something to work towards with my Japanese study, and I think it will give me a very important feeling of accomplishment with each test I manage to pass.

 頑張ります！

Knowing that businesses can deny doing business with me because I don’t speak fluent Japanese is very depressing.

When we first arrived, while there were plenty of businesses that were willing to put up with my random phrases and hand gestures until I got my point across, there were many businesses that flat out told me they couldn’t help me because I don’t speak enough Japanese to communicate with them. Case in point: I wanted to get a new pair of ear pads for my spectacles, but since I had a hard time expressing this desire, more than one shop told me they couldn’t help me and kindly gestured towards the door.

[A store finally did understand what I wanted and went out of their way to help me.]

A neighbour of ours refuses to say hello to me unless I make eye contact and say hello, requiring her to respond likewise. I haven’t confirmed it, but I believe this is because of a possibly awkward interaction with a gaijin that isn’t fluent in Japanese. One time, I saw her walking the opposite direction holding a sun umbrella; once she recognised me, she actually tilted her umbrella downwards so that I couldn’t make eye contact to say hello. Whenever I am leaving my house and she is in her garden, she usually runs into her house before I can pass her house. With a toddler in tow, we’re typically quite slow leaving the house, so she has plenty of time to run away and hide.

When we first tried to use Mr’s office hoikuen on a temporary basis (so that I can attend Japanese classes), the first resistance they tried was that we aren’t fluent in Japanese so kiddo won’t understand what the caretakers are saying to her and I won’t understand the daily summary they provide when I come to pick her up. Once they found out that I already take her to the all-Japanese jidoukan on an almost daily basis without any issue, they had to relent and decide it wasn’t a problem.

Depressing.

I’ve got it in my head that I should learn Japanese by watching more television. Unfortunately, we brought our television from the US and we are unwilling to pay for cable here so it’s only good for watching movies. Fortunately, we have a Japanese DVD player and an old PS3 which can play Blu-Rays and Region 1 DVDs, so we can watch anything we can find at the rental store.

As a result, I’ve asked F to rent Japanese films and series for me. I watch them with the Japanese captions and try to figure out wtf is going on. Most of the time, I’m pretty clueless until I look up a plot summary online. But the good thing is that I’m starting to pick up some phrases here and there.

Today I met with a friend whose husband I met at Japanese class. He doesn’t go to class anymore because he got a job and has to work instead of study Japanese. His wife, M, isn’t my best friend, but I see her once in a while to sorta keep in touch. I think she thought it was a little inappropriate for her husband and me to be friends, so she insisted on being in the loop, with the result that I now keep in touch with her and never get to see her husband anymore.

We haven’t seen each other in months because her trip to visit her in-laws happened directly before my trip back to see my parents. Then once I got back, it was a little while before I thought to get back in touch with friends here because we were trying to get ready to send Lolli to a new hoikuen (daycare). But finally, we got to see each other today.

My friendship with her is a bit strange because we don’t really have much to talk about past the superficial stuff. However, we’re both pretty friendly people and our conversations still seem to go smoothly, but sometimes she asks me some random questions about my life that seem misplaced and strange.

Today’s random question was: Do you fight with your husband and what do you fight about?

I feel like questions like this are asked because the person asking wants to talk about some kind of issue in their own lives and it’s a good opening line, so I asked her what kind of things she and her husband fight about. The answer felt like she was answering an interview question, where you are asked a tough question and you admit some kind of minor fault that still somehow makes you seem like a normal person they want to hire. Her answer was that she doesn’t like how long he stands in front of the open refrigerator staring at the contents, and that he doesn’t like it when she speaks too much Japanese at home because he still has trouble understanding everything. All in all, she proclaimed them minor things to argue over and in general they have pretty good communication.

It made me wonder if there was something else she wanted to talk about, but was too embarrassed at the last minute to say it.

Maybe I should invite her out drinking and see if that opens her up a little more.

Do you know how nori is made? The process was developed to help preserve seaweed for sale. Previously, seaweed was sold fresh and/or pickled and could only be sold for a certain time before it went bad. By making nori, seaweed vendors could preserve their stock.

[We learned all this by going to a nori museum in our ward in Tokyo. Everything is in Japanese, but you can get the gist of it even without any language skills. There are great displays, a video, and lots of hands-on stuff for kids. Plus, admission is free and there is a giant slide in a park across from the museum. Highly recommended.]

Nori is made by chopping up seaweed into a fine pulp and making seaweed paper on square straw trays. This means that nori came in a standard size, a large square.

Somehow, this standard has continued and nori is sold in large square sheets or in what is called 2切 or 3切 (2-cut or 3-cut). For the most part these sizes have been standardised and are always the same, no matter the brand.

Since starting to go to jidoukan in the mornings instead of the usual afternoons, I’ve started to meet a whole different group of mothers. Of course, this means I have to re-introduce myself over and over again, and when people realise that I don’t speak Japanese very well, there are the inevitable questions like:

“Wow, your Japanese is so great! How did you learn?” (Even though my Japanese is clearly terrible)

“What country did you come from?”

“Do you live near here?”

But today I got a different question:

“Half?”

What she was asking is if my kiddo was mixed ethnicity. I think her curly brownish hair confuses people. It’s even more confusing for people when I tell them that I’m American and so is my husband. I think most people want to try to nail down exactly what ethnicity we each are, but mostly I don’t want to have to explain everything and then get even more confused looks from them.

I barely want to explain things in English, let alone trying to do it in Japanese.

When I first started learning Japanese, I would go to conversation class and feel that some days my Japanese game was right on, and some days my game was way off. I’d start class feeling pretty good, but after a while, I would have a harder and harder time understanding so that by the end of class, I’d leave feeling completely overwhelmed and thinking I was never going to get the hang of this.

Things were like this for a long while. I’d feel like I really got the hang of something one week, but then the next week I’d find that I had mixed something else up completely and was back at square one when it came to the conversations.

I started pre-studying, reviewing the next lesson prior to class so I’d have at least half a clue during class. For the most part, this worked out great and I had a much better grasp on things, but then I’d run up against a bunch of vocabulary that I didn’t have time to review and would have to ask sensei to please explain  just about every other word.

Since finally getting Lolli into hoikuen (daycare) twice a week and signing up for the JLPT N4 test in December, I’m making a much more concentrated effort to study and I feel like it really shows. I get to study for a few hours in the afternoon twice a week and I focus the studying on vocabulary, kanji writing/reading, and verb conjugations geared towards the test.

The vocabulary is always the most important to me. I find that I know how to create the basic sentence structure, but I just don’t know the right word to use. When I used to take French in high school, my teacher always said that my weakness was my limited vocabulary, but my strength was being able to explain what I needed using that limited vocabulary. I find myself doing this in Japanese all the time, which makes for quite awkward conversations sometimes!

It’s always so embarrassing when sensei compliments me on Japanese skill because I still feel like I’m floundering most of the time. There are plenty of times when I need to ask for help or just resort to checking my dictionary instead.

But at least, it seems like those times are happening less often than it was at the very beginning. If I can understand half of the conversation, I feel like I really got somewhere.

Ha.

I, Anndi, am a serious foodie. About 99% of the reason I ever leave my house is to try new food. Since the city is jam packed with restaurants on every corner, it’s hard to know which ones are truly worth your hard-earned coins. Well I am here to help you! Below is a list of my Top 5 Favorite Places to Eat in Paris. 

1. Gumbo Yaya

Fried Chicken? Collard Greens? HUSH PUPPIES?! By far my favorite place to eat in Paris and it has nothing to do with french food. With a cool hip-hop ambiance and cookout style decor, Gumbo Yaya is a great relaxed place to dine with friends. In all honesty, it’s not incredibly authentic soul food (having a southern family I’m a harsh critic), but the fried chicken is BANGIN’ and it beats going to a french KFC any day. It’s fairly priced, with a good sized portion meal being between 11-15 euros. 

Pro Tip: Get the Big Homie or the Chicken&Waffle Burger. Thank me later. 

3 rue Charles Robin, Metro stop Colonel Fabien (line 2)

2. Ménélik

If you have never had Ethiopian cuisine before, just know it is entirely TOO LIT. Food full of overwhelmingly savory flavors that is meant to be shared among a large group and eaten with your hands (Take lots of napkins). From the authentic ethiopian artwork, multi-colorful tapestries, and mesmerizing east african music, this spot bathes in authenticity. The best part is easily the free mystery wine you get before your meal. It will have you feeling good in no time. But if you feel like paying for alcohol, I would try Tej which is a wine brewed with honey. 

Pro Tip:Ask for more sourdough bread. You’re going to need it. 

4 rue Sauffroy, Metro Stop Brochant (line 2)

3. HolyBelly

Oh, HolyBelly. Are we in old town Paris or gentrified Williamsburg, Brooklyn? It took two times of waiting in line for over an HOUR until I actually tried your savory goodness. But boy was it worth the wait! This French-American spot, located at the heart of the 10th, is a hipster haven and has perhaps the best brunch in town. With its impeccable attention to plate presentation, it has the most “Instagram-able” meals in the city. If you order the Savory Stack you will have dreams about it several weeks after. 

Pro Tip: Try to get in line before 11am. After that its all over champ. 

19 Rue Lucien Sampaix , Metro stop Jacques Bonsergent (line 8)

4. Churrasquiera Galo

This portuguese restaurant has a pretty underwhelming decor and even less impressive service. It’s small and has the community-style seating I loathe quite dearly. BUT the food is awesome!! The portion size is super generous by European standards and you can get a full, hearty meal for less than 13 euros! What’s best is that its located only a 8 min walk away from the Sacré-Coeur in Montmartre, the highest point in the city. It may not be phenomenal in all respects but the food makes it worth a lunch stop after sight-seeing.

Pro Trip:Only go if super hungry. Or wear stretchy pants. 

69 rue du Dunkerque, Anvers (line 2), Barbes-Rochechouart (line 4)

5. La Crêperie Bretonne

My absolute favorite french meal is crêpes and galettes. Sweet or savory. I will take them however I can get them. PLEASE resist the temptation to try your first crêpe from a cheap fast food hole-in-the-wall in Saint-Michel and instead opt for one of the many tasty sit-downs on Rue du Montparnasse. This long, narrow street is lined with nothing but restaurants that specialize in this french delicacy. The most popular of these is La Crêperie Bretonne. I personally like to top my crepes with ham, egg, cheese, mushroom, and spinach but you don’t have to start or stop there! You will be overwhelmed by the options. So go here! Your taste buds will thank you for it. 

Pro Trip: Cider is the best pairing with galettes (savory crepes). Highly recommend!

56 rue de Montparnasse, Metro Stop Edgar Quinet (line 6), Vanvin (line 4), or Gare Montparnasse (line 4, 6, 12, & 13)

Have you ever been carried by a French firefighter to the hospital?

I have. 

Last week I was set to leave for Rome for 5 days with a friend. I was practically skipping with excitement days prior. I learned rudimentary italian on Duolingo, I watched the Lizzie McGuire Movie in preparation, and I fantasized about buttery noodles I can’t pronounce while practicing various poses for Instagram. I was ready! After being in wine and cheese France for 6 months, I couldn’t wait to get a taste of another culture. 

Seven hours before take off, I get on the bus to the airport. (I live really far away and had planned to meet my friend at her house beforehand).  As I’m still searching for a seat, the bus goes Herby Fully Loaded on me and totally throws me off balance. Before I know it I’m on the floor bleeding from my leg on a bus full of a people. No one offered to help me. Gotta love the french! 

I boogie-board the bus all the way to the train station. It’s 11pm and only the most precarious characters are around. My jeans and brand new white converses are now soaked in blood. *Cue nervous laughter* as I realize I look like the Walking Dead. So I limp-run through the platform in search of a bathroom. I finally find one not occupied by a homeless man but only to find out theres no toilet paper or paper towels. Parfait. 

Being the adult that I am, I call my daddy 6,000 miles away for advice. “ You should probably go to a hospital”, he suggests. Of course. Why on earth didn’t I think of that? 

I try to call 911 and then remember that 911 is an American emergency number. What’s the French emergency number. WHY on earth don’t I know this?!?! I’m a terrible expat. 

Six hours before take off and I am officially panicking. Because I’m in a train station in Nowhereville, France, I decide to (literally) hop on the train to the next more populated station. I get there to find it equally deserted. But that’s when Antoine the Firefighter saved found me. He calls an ambulance and it arrives in lightening speed. Antoine decides to board the ambulance like the gentleman he is. Antoine is cute. I’m in love with Antoine. He starts asking me all these personal questions, like where I live, what I do, and my phone number. Naturally I start flirting back until I realize he’s just filling out out my medical release form.

I’m wheeled into the ER, large suitcase in my lap, to find everyone and their mother and their mother’s mother waiting on a doctor. All I can think about is Rome. “How long is this going to take? I have a flight to catch!” Must. Have. BUTTERY NOODLES. My desperation earns me a seat at the front of line. I even cut a sick baby and woman that looks like the Crypt Keeper but scarier. 

Five hours before take off and I finally see a doctor. His name is Doogie Howser. Seriously how old was this kid? After clumsily applying anesthesia, Doogie administers six sloppy stitches to my shin. I can tell he’s as nervous as I am because his hand is shaking and he keeps asking the real doctor, “is this good?”. I’m too anxious to care because all I can think about is my flight and the fact that my white shoes are ruined. Mind you I am documenting this entire ordeal on Snapchat because I’m a millennial and thats just what we do. 

Four hours before take-off and I am unceremoniously released from the ER with a long list of prescriptions. I have no idea how I’m supposed to pick up said prescriptions considering its 2am and none of the pharmacies are open until after I leave for Rome. “Italy has pharmacies too” , says the sassy, disgruntled front desk lady. 

Three hours before take-off, I finally meet up with my friend at her house. The airport is 25-30 minutes away from her house but because we’re cheap we decide to take an hour long night bus for 2 euros instead of a 40 euro taxi. I don’t know what type of people I expected to be on the bus at 3am….but the sketch parade was in full force. Every stop the passengers are creepier than the last. They bus lights were dimmed, the rain came down hard, and the windows were so foggy we couldn’t even see the buildings. We clung to one another the whole 60 minutes. 

Ten minutes before take-off. The anesthesia is starting to wear off, I’ve thrown back some Ibuprofen, and I’m sitting window seat next to a priest. The meds kick in just in time for take off and I realize I haven’t slept in almost 24 hours. I knock out before the plane even leaves the ground. The End. 

What Did We Learn: 

- Don’t take public transportation by yourself after midnight. 

- Always know the emergency numbers in whatever country you’re in. 

- Ask more questions on the credentials of people operating on you (if need be).

- Trust french firefighters, especially if his name is Antoine. 

5 Ways I Make Money Working From Home

Nowadays many people prefer to stay away from 9-5 jobs and really value and desire the ability to work remotely. Does it sound like you? Whether you want to make money working from home or from a tropical destination with a view of the ocean, I’ll share a few ways I do so. (more…)

View On WordPress