Once in a blue moon, I find that a dutch word describes something best. For example, today when I went to GP to discuss some allergy problems, the word that most aptly conveyed what had happened to me yesterday, as I cleaned a bit of the kitchen using a spray cleaner, was benauwd. In English, I would have to say that I was using this stuff and that suddenly, it felt like my lungs had filled with fluid. I couldn't breathe, I was frightened, I had to go to another room, where I sat for almost an hour. It was so....I felt so...benauwd.
As I sat in the tub a short while ago, going over the events of the day, another dutch word proved more precise, more apt. No one can decide how to spell it- for the government pays some group of people a large amount of money each year, it seems, to come up with new spelling rules for the dutch language- but the word is chenant.
I have been told by people in the know that no one uses this word. But I know it, so someone must use it.
Here is what chenant means : for the last five years, your son and your GP's son have been on the same, made- for- Disney soccer team. For five years, you have tried just to see him as another father, joked about the five year long losing streak, muttered under your breath about the goalie. Lots of laughs.
So, you come in with breathing problems, GP has to listen to your lungs. You have to lift up your shirt. You recently lost a good amount of weight and are suddenly aware that you never got around to buying a bra that fits, because you usually fake it, although some might call that layering. Your family is used to the eczema which covers odd parts of your body and the fact that you cannot wear anything which contains a Black Rubber derivative.
You were blessed with a baby at 42, about 10 years after your skin left the concept of elasticity way, way behind it.
Chenant means having to take off your shirt in front of the father of a kid that your son plays soccer with.
Chenant sounds just like one feels.
Sometimes I really like the way many Taiwanese can be completely oblivious to what is going on around them and the fact that people look at them because they are behaving strangely. It can seem so disarmingly charming and innocent. In the gym this morning, a young kid felt he needed to work on his dance steps to impress on his girl. He stood in front of a mirror wall making all these crazy moves with his legs to some vapid pop song. He wouldn't stop. I watched him for a while from the machine where I was working out as he kept repeating the same steps, only slightly adjusting his moves as the song changed (a while, btw, is the exact amount of time that you can secretly watch someone without being found out).
And yesterday on the bus on my way to the paper, a man in his 50s with headphones that seemed too big for his head because he was bald directed some symphony orchestra and marked the beat with his shiny head in big, exaggerated nods. Up, down, up, down. He just sat at the front of the bus where everybody could see him, completely lost in his music, head bobbing up and down and hands describing intricate patterns as he directed the orchestra performing in his head.
Then at other times times I really don't like this total obliviousness to the outside world. I don't know how many times I've seen people screaming and shouting over the most minute detail because it didn't suit them, deliberately stripping a person of their last shred of dignity. Very ugly. Or the woman ahead of me at Subway today who held up a long line of really hungry people (at least one) while talking on her mobile and ignoring the girl behind the counter who tried to find out what she wanted. Until, that is, the girl politely said that she would serve me while the woman finished her phone conversation. All of a sudden she heard the girl fine and broke off the conversation with a short "Later."
But maybe this is true of people in any big city with several million people where you eventually stop noticing the mass of people flowing through the streets, subway, department stores, buses.
I got home two nights ago, after working overtime at the office, and everyone in the house was speaking B-Language. Do people do something similar where you live?
B-Language is an artificial language, more like Pig Latin than Esperanto. Like Pig Latin, only harder. It is spoken by inserting a "B" into every syllable.
"Good morning" becomes "goobood mobornibing."
"Hello" becomes "hebellobo."
At least I think so. I thought understanding it was hard, until I tried speaking it, which is even worse. It really gives your brain a workout.
My wife and two daughters were having entire conversations in B-Language, pausing now and then to laugh, and laugh. I kept up with them for a short time, but had to carefully plan everything I said and eventually gave up and webent tobo bebed.
I had an interesting conversation with my wife about asking Japanese people, "How are you?" in Japanese. ("Dou desuka?" or just "Dou...?") A friend of ours was told (by an older, 40ish Japanese woman) to stop asking her, "How are you?" and other "probing questions." She was upset because she was trying to work, and it wasn't a good time to come up with a suitable response. Furthermore, she felt it was condescending to have a younger co-worker checking on her that way. In Japan it's the moral duty of superiors in the workplace to consider the well-being of the workers "in their care" and make sure they're doing okay. She perceived it as cocky for someone younger than herself to take that role and in such a laid back (smiling, sincere) way.
My wife, who is Japanese, explained to this woman that when Americans say, "How are you?" it's fine to say, "Okay" (or something along those lines). For Americans, this is a greeting that shows "neutral" concern for the other person without any expecation of an honest answer. (Some Americans DO try to ask this question honestly, by the way, with a willingness to genuinely listen to the reply. While commendable, I suppose, that might be even more uncomfortable for this Japanese woman.)
I'm not trying to open the door for everyone to say how much they don't like American sentimentalities like, "How are you?" I remember a survey that the BBC did awhile ago that revealed how strongly Europeans dislike the words, "Have a nice day." The truth is that people from every culture have their own annoying questions (remarks, mannerisms, silences, etc.).
But here is another angle on the issue. The problem is that our friend translated a polite American greeting directly into Japanese and thought he could use it with the same warm intentions and meaning. But, in fact, the meaning (and his polite intentions) were lost in translation. She had given vague answers and put up with his custom for a long time, but finally she "exploded" (quietly, I'm sure) and told him to stop.
I don't mean to make him look bad either. After hearing this story, I realized that I have often asked the staff at our local Starbucks, "Kyou wa dou desuka?" (i.e., How are you today?) or just "Dou...?". Sometimes after an odd look, they have answered, "It's busy" or "It's so hot outside, isn't it?" or "I'm tired." Noticing the odd looks, I've tried other approaches, including innocuous statements, like: "It's hot/cold/raining again, huh?" or "It's busy/not that busy?" or even, "You look tired today?" I've noticed that the staff at Starbucks smile warmly and sometimes launch into a REAL conversation after a comment about the weather.
My wife confirms that these kinds of neutral/semi-personal statements (especially in work and professional places) are much better than personal or open ended questions. (Side note: So called "thought provoking" questions are generally a problem if there is ANY POSSIBILITY that you may expect a specific RIGHT answer. The idea that "there is no wrong answer" is not the usual way of thinking here.) There may be a time and place for "revealing" or "thought provoking" questions, but that's material for another post. I WILL say that, in general, Japanese people talk about their inner selves and feelings much less (and with far fewer people) than Americans do. And when they open up and start sharing with a "sincere" American, something they would only normally do with a highly trusted friend, they may regret that and shut down later (and/or find it shocking when the American moves on as though nothing significant happened).
Posted originally at Japan Window Photo Blog.