{"id":301,"date":"2016-04-13T11:18:12","date_gmt":"2016-04-13T02:18:12","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.sankenbook.co.jp\/?p=301"},"modified":"2016-04-18T12:41:14","modified_gmt":"2016-04-18T03:41:14","slug":"notes-on-now-how-to-japan","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.sankenbook.co.jp\/en\/notes\/301.html","title":{"rendered":"Notes on Now How to Japan"},"content":{"rendered":"

Notes on Now How to Japan<\/span><\/h2>\n

This \u201cEnglish version\u201d of Shin Nippon Shakai Ny\u016bmon<\/span> isn’t as \u201cEnglish\u201d as it might be. Japanese words, concepts and, indeed, whole sentences of Japanese are thrown in. Apologies to anyone who found the book difficult to follow as a result. These notes are for you.<\/p>\n

Preface<\/h3>\n\n\n
p.7<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n
sh\u014dtengai<\/span><\/th>\nA neighbourhood shopping street. Usually, there’s one by every train station in Japanese cities.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
shitamachi<\/th>\nTranslates literally as \u201cdown town\u201d but meaning the older traditional districts of Tokyo, centring on Asakusa.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

Chapter 1<\/h3>\n\n\n
p.11<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
gy\u016bny\u016b<\/span><\/th>\nmeans milk. But the \u201cmiruku<\/span>\u201d which comes with coffee and tea in Japan is often an artificial-tasting type of cream.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
hatachi<\/span><\/th>\nmeans twenty (years of age). It is irregular because the usual word for 20 is ni-j\u016b<\/span>. Similarly, the 20th of the month is hatsuka<\/span>, rather than ni-j\u016b-nichi<\/span>.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
mizu, yu<\/span><\/th>\nMizu<\/span> means water and yu<\/span> means hot water, so the noun actually changes despite it clearly still being water. This is different from English where we just add an adjective. (Until you get to frozen water, which we call ice, or water falling from the sky which we call rain, or frozen water which we call snow, or half-melted water on the ground which we call slush etc.)<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
kome, gohan<\/span><\/th>\nUncooked rice is kome<\/span>, boiled rice is gohan<\/span>. (Fried rice is raisu<\/span>.) Comparable to bread and toast.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
yaki imo<\/th>\nBaked sweet potato, sold from vans that circulate neighbourhoods when the weather is cold. (Rather like ice cream vans in summer.)<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.13<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
\u201ccake viking<\/span>\u201d<\/th>\nis a cake buffet, the word \u201cbaikingu<\/span>\u201d (viking<\/span>) being widely used to mean an all-you-can-eat buffet.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
shikata ga nai<\/span><\/th>\n\u201cIt can’t be helped\u201d or \u201cthere’s nothing that can be done\u201d... Possibly the most overused expression in the Japanese language. The opposite shikata ga aru<\/span> doesn’t exist, apparently.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
chotto soko made<\/span><\/th>\n\u201cJust over there\u201d is the standard, evasive, answer to \u201cWhere are you off to?\u201d The English equivalent of, \u201cJust popping out for a bit\u201d.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.14<\/th>\n\n\n\n
Winnie the Pooh is Kuma no Pooh-san<\/span> (\u201cthe bear Pooh\u201d), Shaun the Sheep is Hitsuji no Shaun<\/span> (\u201cthe sheep Shaun\u201d) but Mickey Mouse is, basically, the same in Japanese (because \u201cnezumi<\/span>\u201d would draw attention to the fact that he is a \u201crodent\u201d).<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

Chapter 2<\/h3>\n\n\n
p.15<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n
Waka-Taka boom<\/th>\nA golden period for sumo, in the early 1990s, when the Japanese economy was still relatively good and the young brother wrestlers Wakanohana and Takanohana inspired interest in the sport.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.18<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n
toki<\/span><\/th>\nAlso called the Japanese Crested Ibis. A symbol of Japan, though the last \u201cnative\u201d toki<\/span> died in 2003. The bird has since been reintroduced to Japan from China. It remains an endangered species.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
furusato<\/span><\/th>\n\u201cHometown\u201d, though it may mean the place where one’s family is from and where ancestral graves are, rather than where one was born. <\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.19<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
Seto \u014chashi bridge<\/th>\nHashi<\/span> means bridge, so it is a sort of redundancy to call it the Seto \u014chashi bridge (the \u201cSeto Great Bridge bridge\u201d) but we did so for clarity.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
d\u014dtaku<\/span><\/th>\nDecorated bronze bells which were produced in large quantities for ritual purposes in the Yayoi Period in Japan.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
Izu no Odoriko<\/span><\/th>\nA popular fictional story by Yasunari Kawabata, also called \u201cThe Dancing Girl of Izu\u201d. <\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
Botchan<\/span><\/th>\nThe classic novel by S\u014dseki Natsume. The word is difficult to translate, implying \u201ca boy from a privileged background\u201d (though one early translation of the book was titled Boy). It can be used to refer politely to someone else’s son, as in \u201cOtaku no botchan wa ogenki<\/span>?\u201d (\u201cHow is your botchan<\/span> doing?\u201d)<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
Ak\u014d R\u014dshi<\/span><\/th>\nThe (true) story of the 47 r\u014dnin.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.21<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n
bunsuirei<\/span><\/th>\nWatershed. I always assumed that Mr Doi meant that his getting into Waseda represented a watershed moment.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
fureai<\/span><\/th>\nApproximately means \u201cmaking an emotional connection\u201d though this makes the term sound clumsy. Used quite widely in Japanese. Going for a walk in the countryside? A fureai<\/span> with nature. Going to the theatre? A fureai<\/span> with culture etc.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

Chapter 3<\/h3>\n\n\n
p.25<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n
honne-tatemae<\/span><\/th>\nA key concept in Japanese culture, in which true feelings (honne<\/span>) are dissembled by a public facade (tatemae<\/span>). In doing this, of course, Japanese are not unique or even unusual. They are just a bit more aware of doing it.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.26<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n
ginj\u014d-shu, daiginj\u014d<\/span><\/th>\nSake is graded, with daiginj\u014d<\/span> being the highest grade produced from highly polished rice. This makes it more refined but, according to one theory, strips it of some of its flavour. Ginj\u014d-shu<\/span> is one grade below.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
geiko<\/span><\/th>\nKyoto geisha insist they are called geiko<\/span>. Arthur Golden’s novel Memoirs of a Geisha<\/span> enraged Kyoto geisha (or geiko<\/span>, I should say) by referring to them geisha instead of geiko<\/span>. Also, he wrote about how they sell their virginity for money.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.27<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n
ee janaika<\/span><\/th>\n\u201dIt\u2019s good isn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.29<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
Tongue twisters:<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
Tokyo tokkyo kyokakyoku<\/span><\/th>\nSadly, the \u201cTokyo Patent Office Permission Department\u201d doesn’t actually exist.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
basu gasu bakuhatsu<\/span><\/th>\n\u201cBus gas explosion\u201d<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
Incidentally, the cruellest English language tongue twister for Japanese is \u201dred lorry, yellow lorry\u201d.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.30<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
hitotsu no seki de futatsu no tori<\/span><\/th>\nThe correct version is isseki nich\u014d<\/span> (\u201cto kill two birds with one stone\u201d or \u201cone stone, two birds\u201d as the more economical Japanese version has it).<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
hatarakanai saru wa mono taberarenai hazu<\/span><\/th>\nMy badly mangled version of hatarakazaru mono k\u016bbekarazu<\/span>, meaning \u201che who doesn’t work shouldn’t eat\u201d. (My version translates as \u201cthe monkey that doesn’t work shouldn’t eat stuff\u201d.)<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
Edokko<\/span> et al.<\/th>\nmeans \u201cchild of Edo\u201d, Edo being the old name for Tokyo (pre-Meiji Restoration), so Kobekko<\/span> is child of Kobe. Naniwakko<\/span> is child of Naniwa (an old name for Osaka; there is still a Naniwa Ward in Osaka).<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
Dosanko<\/span><\/th>\nA native of Hokkaido, the word forming from the characters \u201cdo<\/span>\u201d (the last part of Hokkaido), \u201csan<\/span>\u201d (born) and \u201cko<\/span>\u201d (child). <\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
Incidentally, it is quite fun to quiz Japanese who are learning English on what people from various places in Britain are called. Start with London, before moving on to Bristol, Manchester, Liverpool, Glasgow and Birmingham. Most people will be stunned into despair at the absence of any regular pattern.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

Chapter 4<\/h3>\n\n\n
p.33<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n
For the record, the \u201cunruly daughter\u201d is now a very well-behaved five-year-old. Proof that the behaviour of two and three-year-olds is not indicative of their eventual characters. (Or that the \u201cwitches threat\u201d is very effective.)<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.36<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n
gogatsu-by\u014d<\/span><\/th>\nThe main symptom of \u201cMay Disease\u201d is lethargy, but of a particularly worrying, soul-numbing kind. Apparently, the main trigger is that people have had time off over Golden Week and, rather than returning to work refreshed, feel depressed at the long slog ahead of them.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
...wake ni ikanai<\/span><\/th>\nA useful and easy-to-grasp construction to mean \u201ccan’t very well\u201d. e.g. \u201cI can’t very well go on a stag weekend while my girlfriend is recovering from surgery\u201d or \u201cWe can’t very well ask to borrow money of him since we didn’t pay him back the last time\u201d or (a Japanese version) \u201cI can’t very well take a day off work just because I have influenza, can’t hold down breakfast and can barely stand up.\u201d<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.37<\/th>\n\n\n\n
inaka<\/span><\/th>\nOften translated as \u201ccountryside\u201d but not necessarily green rolling fields and frequently used in a negative way. \u201cBedtowns\u201d such as Urawa and even provincial industrial cities can be called \u201cinaka<\/span>\u201d. Might be better to think of it as meaning \u201cnot the big city\u201d.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

Chapter 5<\/h3>\n\n\n
p.40<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n
Shinagawa 2-ch\u014dme<\/th>\nFor the avoidance of doubt, there is no Shinagawa 2-ch\u014dme and the \u201cpark\u201d there is a composite of several rubbish little speck-of-dirt spaces that pass for parks all over Tokyo.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.41<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n
haisha-san, yaoya-san<\/span><\/th>\nJapanese do indeed attach -san to dentists and greengrocers...<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.42<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n
gy\u016bdonya-san<\/span><\/th>\n... but not gy\u016bdon<\/span> shops.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
o-mizu, o-kutsushita, go-shinbun<\/span><\/th>\nIn Japan, water is \u201chonourable\u201d but not socks and newspapers.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
Massan<\/span><\/th>\nA hugely popular NHK television drama (or \u201cserialised TV novel\u201d as it is called) from 2014-15, based on the story of Rita Cowan (\u201cEllie\u201d in the programme) and her husband Masataka Taketsuru (\u201cMassan\u201d), who pioneered making whisky in Japan.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

Chapter 6<\/h3>\n\n\n
p.44<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n
watashi no kara kimashita wa Brazil desu<\/span><\/th>\nComprehensible but incorrect Japanese for \u201cI come from Brazil\u201d. \u201cwatashi wa Brazil kara kimashita<\/span>\u201d would be grammatical.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.45<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n
daij\u014dbu \/ zenzen \/ ichiban<\/span><\/th>\nOkay \/ not at all (or \u201cabsolutely\u201d depending on context) \/ Number One. But you probably knew that...<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.46<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
niteiru \/ sukoshi niteiru \/ niteinai<\/span><\/th>\nAlike \/ a bit alike \/ not alike.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
dochira demo ii desu \/ doko demo ii desu \/ nan demo ii desu<\/span><\/th>\nEither is okay \/ wherever is fine \/ whatever will be alright<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
komatteimasu<\/span><\/th>\n\u201cI\u2019m in trouble\u201d or \u201cI need help\u201d. (A slightly over-dramatic opening gambit.)<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
okanemochi no aji<\/span><\/th>\nAji<\/span> is \u201cflavour\u201d but okanemochi<\/span> is only \u201crich\u201d in the pecuniary sense.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
buatsui<\/span><\/th>\n\u201cDense\u201d rather than \u201cthick\u201d, hence not applicable to soup. I used this incorrectly several times over several years before realising, which inspired the title of my blog on this website (https:\/\/www.sankenbook.co.jp\/blog<\/a>)<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
furui<\/span><\/th>\nmeans \u201cold\u201d but more like \u201clong ago\u201d. Hence you can have a \u201cfurui hanashi<\/span>\u201d (an old story) but a \u201cfurui hito<\/span>\u201d would not mean an elderly person but an old-fashioned or outmoded person.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.47<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
\u201coyaji gag<\/span>\u201d<\/th>\nOyaji<\/span> is a pejorative term for middle-aged man. An \u201coyaji gag<\/span>\u201d is therefore the type of joke your embarrassing uncle would make; or the Japanese term for a pun.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
y\u014dfuku<\/span><\/th>\n\u201cWestern clothes\u201d<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
Igirisu no kimono<\/span><\/th>\nThis is a contradiction in terms. Although the Japanese word \u201ckimono<\/span>\u201d literally means \u201cthings to wear\u201d, in usage it means \u201cJapanese traditional clothing\u201d. So \u201cEnglish kimono\u201d makes no sense.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.48<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n
amaeru, amae<\/span><\/th>\nAnother key Japanese concept. Although Westerners tend to see Japan’s \u201cstrict hierarchy\u201d as objectionable, it is also possible for underlings to take advantage of this by acting helpless and presuming on the protection and help of a superior. I have never worked out how to say this in English without invoking a description involving children trying to get out of trouble with their parents.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
bujoku<\/span><\/th>\nInsult<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.49<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
honto da to ii no ni naa<\/span><\/th>\nIf only that were true...
\nClive James, who once said in a radio interview that this was his killer sentence, is famous for introducing the TV show Za Gaman<\/span> to a British audience in the 1980s (he showed clips from Endurance<\/span>, as he called it, on his weekly programme). To this day, many British people of a certain age think that Japanese humour consists of people being subjected to various forms of mild torture.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
k\u014d itten<\/span><\/th>\n\u201cA splash of red\u201d to mean a lone woman in the company of several men. A party where the balance hasn’t quite worked...<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
kimodameshi<\/span><\/th>\nKimo<\/span> means \u201cguts\u201d and tameshi<\/span> (dameshi<\/span>) means \u201ctest\u201d. A game in which Japanese children might have to negotiate an \u201cabandoned\u201d house in the dark or other such scary situations.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
o-na<\/span><\/th>\nThe standard Japanese word for vegetables is yasai<\/span>. I still don’t know for sure if o-na<\/span> is an old word, a rare word or a word that only scholars know.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.50<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
uten<\/span><\/th>\nLiterally, rainy weather. But not used in normal conversation.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
ry\u016bch\u014d ni hanaseru y\u014d ni naritai<\/span><\/th>\nI want to be able to speak fluently.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
pera pera ni naritai<\/span> \/ j\u014dzu ni naritai<\/span><\/th>\nMore natural ways to say the above phrase.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
hijiri<\/span><\/th>\nLike o-na<\/span> above, it’s in the dictionary but few Japanese seem to know the word. The normal word for saint is seijin<\/span>.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
suigara-ire<\/span><\/th>\nPlease don’t bother to learn this word. It’s \u201ccigarette butt receptacle\u201d. Learn \u201cashtray\u201d (haizara<\/span>) instead.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
asadachi<\/span><\/th>\nMorning glory (in the vernacular, not the flower)<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.51<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n
ashi ga hayai<\/span> \/ te ga hayai<\/span><\/th>\n\u201cFast legs\u201d means someone is a fast runner but \u201cfast hands\u201d means someone is a pick-up artist.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.52<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n
saki ni d\u014dzo<\/span> \/ d\u014dzo, saki ni<\/span><\/th>\nBoth mean \u201cafter you\u201d. (Equally clear, equally valid.)<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
todoite morau<\/span> \/ todokete morau<\/span><\/th>\nI meant to ask \u201cdo you get it delivered?\u201d but used the transitive instead of the intransitive. She gently corrected me.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

Chapter 7<\/h3>\n\n\n
p.54<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
he<\/span> \/ ne-he<\/span><\/th>\nBreaking wind \/ breaking wind while asleep<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
maemuki ni kent\u014d shimasu<\/span><\/th>\n\u201cWe will consider it in a positive manner\u201d but in fact a polite way to say that \u201cwe\u201d don’t intend to go ahead with this.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
k\u016bki yomenai<\/span><\/th>\n\u201cCan’t read the air\u201d or can’t pick up the vibes.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.57<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n
chanpon<\/span><\/th>\nMixing drinks<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.58<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
happ\u014dshu<\/span><\/th>\nA beer that doesn’t meet the strict definition of beer according to Japanese brewing law and is also taxed at a lower rate. <\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
onzarokku<\/span><\/th>\nOn the rocks, as in \u201cwhisky with ice\u201d.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
kui-nige<\/span><\/th>\n\u201cA diner dash\u201d in American English.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.59<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
gari-ben<\/span><\/th>\nA swot<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
de-modori<\/span><\/th>\nA child who has left the family home but returned. Typically, a daughter who has divorced. Literally a \u201cleft and returned\u201d.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
poi-sute<\/span><\/th>\nChucked away. <\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.60<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n
gyaku-gire<\/span><\/th>\n\u201cReverse anger\u201d, used when the person in the wrong feigns indignation.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
zuru-yasumi<\/span><\/th>\nA \u201ccrafty day off\u201d. A \u201csickie\u201d in English.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.61<\/th>\n\n\n\n
\n\u201cCould have boiled tea in my belly button\u201d
\nA translation of the Japanese \u201cheso de cha o wakasu<\/span>\u201d, meaning to laugh really hard.\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

Chapter 8<\/h3>\n\n\n
p.63<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n
go-j\u014dsha arigat\u014d gozaimasu<\/span><\/th>\nThank you for riding the train.
\nIt is used specifically for journeys. The Japanese for \u201cthank you for coming to our shop\u201d would be go-raiten arigat\u014d gozaimasu<\/span>. The closest to \u201cthank you for your custom\u201d would be go-riy\u014d arigat\u014d gozaimasu<\/span> (literally, thanks for making use of us).<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
Hanky\u016b Rokk\u014d degozaimasu<\/span><\/th>\nThis is Hankyu Rokko station. (In Kobe, the nearest station to where I lived and studied.)<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.64<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n
higaeri<\/span><\/th>\n\u201cDay trip\u201d or in this case \u201cnon-staying customers\u201d.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.65<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
ryokan<\/span><\/th>\nJapanese-style inn<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
sent\u014d<\/span><\/th>\nPublic bath facility<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
D\u014dzo, shower gurai nara<\/span><\/th>\n\u201cGo ahead, as long as it’s just a shower.\u201d (After all that effort...)<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.68<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n
tanuki<\/th>\nA raccoon dog. Not to be confused with a raccoon. Or a dog. It’s neither. Ceramic tanuki are often placed outside shops as a kind of good luck charm. They smile, wear hats, carry bottles of booze, have pot bellies and (usually) massive testicles. The ceramic ones, that is.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.72<\/th>\n\n\n\n
amido<\/span><\/th>\nA net frame attached to a window to prevent mosquitoes and other insects from coming in when the window is open. Not to be confused with amado<\/span> (\u201crain doors\u201d) which may also be in window frames and can be shut when the rain is very heavy or to prevent the blazing sun from waking you at 4.32 am in mid-summer.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

Chapter 9<\/h3>\n\n\n
p.75<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n
No Pan<\/span><\/th>\nNo Pan<\/span> means \u201cno pants\u201d; an expression made famous in the late 1990s when Ministry of Finance officials were found to have used expenses to visit \u201cNo Pan shabu shabu<\/span>\u201d restaurants (where waitresses wore short skirts and no underwear). It is not recorded whether the shabu shabu was any good there.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.77<\/th>\n\n\n\n
yuru-kyara<\/span><\/th>\n\u201cLoose characters\u201d to mean weak, half-baked or weird mascots. (This phenomenon does not seem to be exclusive to Japan. There is a South Park<\/span> episode in which failed campaign mascots live in retirement at a \u201cmisfit mascot commune\u201d.)<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

Chapter 11<\/h3>\n\n\n
p.86<\/th>\n\n\n\n
Banpaku stadium<\/th>\nBanpaku<\/span> (or bampaku<\/span>) means Expo. The stadium was built following the (hugely popular) 1970 Expo in Osaka as part of the Expo Memorial Park. Gamba Osaka no longer play at Banpaku, starting with the 2015-16 season. But the stadium still hosts athletics and football (Gamba U-23) and is still terraced behind the goals.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

Chapter 12<\/h3>\n\n\n
p.95<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n
Saiy\u016bki<\/span><\/th>\n

\u2028<\/p>\n

The Japanese title of the Chinese classic Journey to the West<\/span> by Wu Cheng’en. The television programme has the same title but was only loosely based on the story.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.98<\/th>\n\n\n\n
Gatchaman<\/span><\/th>\nBroadcast as G-Force<\/span> in England in the 1970s and 80s.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

Chapter 13<\/h3>\n\n\n
p.102<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n
ki<\/span> \/ d\u014dj\u014d<\/span><\/th>\nAsk a martial arts enthusiast (at your own risk)...<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.106<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n
gomi<\/span><\/th>\nRubbish put out for collection. \u201cGomi hunters\u201d will know that piles of magazines will be neatly bundled and put out ready for pilfering the evening before \u201crecyclables collection day\u201d.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
Kochikame<\/span><\/th>\nThe abbreviated name of the manga series Kochira Katsushika-ku Kameari K\u014den Mae Hashutsujo<\/span> (\u201cThis is the Police Station in Front of Kameari Park in Katsushika Ward\u201d); possibly the least snappy title ever invented for anything ever.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
ittekimasu<\/span><\/th>\nLiterally \u201cI will go and come back\u201d or, more naturally, \u201csee you later\u201d. The ritual Japanese expression when you leave your house.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

Chapter 14<\/h3>\n\n\n
p.120<\/th>\n\n\n\n
kowaremono<\/span><\/th>\nBroken stuff. Or \u201cIt’s wrapped up in newspaper because it’s jagged shards of glass, you idiot, not because there’s a present in there.\u201d<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

Chapter 15<\/h3>\n\n\n
p.127<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n
nigori-zake<\/span><\/th>\nA cloudy, unfiltered sake.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.131<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n
ame otoko<\/span><\/th>\n\u201cA rain-bringing man\u201d. If you look this word up in the dictionary, there will be a small picture of me beside the definition because of my unerring ability to land in Tokyo an hour before the arrival of the \u201cbiggest typhoon in 17 years\u201d or the start of the \u201cearliest rainy season since records began\u201d etc.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
betsu bara<\/span><\/th>\n\u201cOther stomach\u201d, i.e. the one into which people who have just declared themselves full can always manage to fit ice cream.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.132<\/th>\n\n\n\n
ippiki, nihiki<\/span> \/ ichiwa, niwa<\/span><\/th>\nSmall animals are usually counted with ippiki<\/span>, nihiki<\/span> and birds as ichiwa<\/span>, niwa<\/span> but rabbits are counted the same as birds.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

Chapter 16<\/h3>\n\n\n
p.136<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n
saodake<\/span><\/th>\nA pole which fits into brackets on the balcony of Japanese apartments and from which you can then hang clothes or drape your bedding to air. Vans drive around Japanese neighbourhoods offering these for sale. This is a mystery, as the poles can easily last five years so how can people be buying them so often that it makes sense for someone to circle the streets offering them for sale?<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
20 nen mae to onaji<\/span>...<\/th>\nThe vans all have the same recording, which says that the price is \u201cthe same as 20 years ago\u201d. This must have been quite an amazing claim once, but since Japan has now been in deflation for 20 years it is today rather disappointing. <\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.138<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n
\u201ccool biz\u201d<\/th>\nA government campaign which pressured companies to permit workers to wear light jackets and short sleeves to work and for offices to use less air-conditioning, thereby reducing energy use. A classic example of the government having to get involved in something that workers and employers ought to have been able to arrange themselves.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.140<\/th>\n\n\n\n
Amerika-jin da<\/span> \/ gaijin ga iru<\/span> \/ YOU ga iru<\/span><\/th>\nIt’s an American \/ There’s a foreigner \/ There’s a YOU
\nVery roughly speaking, white people in Japan were assumed to be American from the time of the Occupation until the late 1990s. A friend has a theory that Japan’s participation in the 1998 World Cup and co-hosting of the 2002 World Cup made Japanese more aware that not all foreigners were American. In the last couple of years, a popular TV programme has rechristened foreigners who visit Japan as \u201cyou\u201d. <\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

Chapter 17<\/h3>\n\n\n
p.141<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n
ny\u016bshashiki<\/span> \/ setsumeikai<\/span><\/th>\na company induction ceremony \/ an explanatory meeting (for job applicants)
\nBlack suits are universal now, though apparently this was not always the case. It has been said that the ubiquitousness is a symbol of the straightened circumstances of post-bubble Japan. i.e. Black suits can be used for weddings, funerals and parties as well as job-hunting activities, thus enabling thrift-conscious students to make do with only one suit.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.142<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n
sakura<\/span><\/th>\nIn addition to the regular meaning (cherry trees), sakura<\/span> can mean \u201cpeople who are paid to queue up in front of a shop to make the place seem popular and in-demand\u201d (sometimes used by new establishments as a relatively cheap form of advertising.) The nearest English equivalent is \u201cshill\u201d, though that word has very negative connotations and is associated with fraud.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.143<\/th>\n\n\n\n
hanami<\/span><\/th>\nCherry blossom viewing. Though \u201crowdy picnics with lots of booze, held under blossoming trees\u201d might be more accurate.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

Chapter 18<\/h3>\n\n\n
p.151<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
kogomi<\/span> \/ komatsuna<\/span><\/th>\nMy research indicates that kogomi<\/span> is \u201cfiddleheads\u201d (of the ostrich fern, not to be confused with fiddleheads of the Japanese flowering fern) and komatsuna<\/span> is \u201cJapanese mustard spinach\u201d. Probably just easier to call them kogomi<\/span> and komatsuna<\/span>.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
omiyage<\/span><\/th>\na souvenir \/ present from a trip<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
kitsune<\/span> \/ tanuki<\/span> \/ yamazaru<\/span><\/th>\nfox \/ raccoon dog \/ mountain monkey<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
zaru soba<\/span><\/th>\nzaru<\/span> is the bamboo draining board on which cold soba noodles are served. (Apparently a law full of loopholes is called a zaru-h\u014d<\/span>, after this item.)<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.152<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n
Kawa no nagare no y\u014d ni<\/span><\/th>\nLike the flowing waters of a river<\/span> (approximately). The popularity of this song is partly explained by the fact that it was Misora’s swan song. She died in 1989, the year of its release.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
gorint\u014d<\/span><\/th>\nA tower or stele of five parts (\u201crings\u201d) representing the five elements according to Buddhism (earth, water, fire, air and the ether).<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p.153<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n
Somei Yoshino<\/th>\nthe most common type of cherry tree, planted all over Japan. This is the type used when forecasters predict the blossom and explains why it is possible to see beautiful cherry blossoms weeks before and weeks after the \u201cofficial\u201d hanami period; other types may blossom earlier and later. <\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
p. 154<\/th>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
In the Japanese version of the book, I erroneously wrote that Somei Yoshino cherry trees are in Windsor royal park (as well as Washington DC). I misremembered a news report I had once seen. The cherry trees in Windsor Great Park are from Japan but are, in fact, types of yae-zakura<\/span> (notable for their dense petals). I am embarrassed by the error, which we have removed from the English version, but was pleased to hear that the domination of the Somei Yoshino is not as extensive as I thought.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
michi no eki<\/span><\/th>\nA \u201croadside station\u201d, which is much more than a service area. It will have rest areas but also tourist information and an excellent range of local produce. <\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
dog\u016b<\/span><\/th>\nHumanoid figurines from the J\u014dmon Period, of unclear purpose but presumably made for some magical purpose. They range from cute to scarily alien and can be fairly simple or very intricate but show remarkable craftsmanship. <\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
musha-gaeshi<\/span><\/th>\nLiterally, warrior-repeller, to mean castle walls.<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

Profile<\/h3>\n\n\n
p.158<\/th>\n\n\n\n
Probably no one is interested but the hospital where I was born was in a suburb of Romford but under the administration of the Barking and Dagenham Health District. When I got my first passport I had to submit my birth certificate, from which my \u201cplace of birth\u201d was taken to be Dagenham. I tried to get this corrected a few years ago when my old passport expired but was told I would have to resubmit all the paperwork and wait several weeks. But of course, I needed the passport soon because of a planned trip overseas. Or I could just stick with Dagenham and they would send me a \u201creissued\u201d passport in a matter of days... Bloody red tape eh?<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Notes on Now How to Japan This \u201cEnglish version\u201d of Shin Nippon Shakai Ny\u016bmon isn’t as \u201cEnglish\u201d as it might be. Japanese words, concepts and, indeed, whole sentences of Japanese are thrown in. Apologies to anyone who found the book difficult to follow as a result. These notes are for you. Preface p.7 sh\u014dtengai A neighbourhood shopping street. Usually, there’s one by every train station in Japanese cities. shitamachi Translates literally as \u201cdown town\u201d but meaning the older traditional districts of Tokyo, centring on Asakusa. Chapter 1 p.11 gy\u016bny\u016b means milk. But the \u201cmiruku\u201d which comes with coffee and tea in Japan is often an artificial-tasting type of cream. hatachi means twenty (years of age). It is irregular because the[\u2026]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[11],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-301","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-notes"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sankenbook.co.jp\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/301","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sankenbook.co.jp\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sankenbook.co.jp\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sankenbook.co.jp\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sankenbook.co.jp\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=301"}],"version-history":[{"count":51,"href":"https:\/\/www.sankenbook.co.jp\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/301\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":368,"href":"https:\/\/www.sankenbook.co.jp\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/301\/revisions\/368"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sankenbook.co.jp\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=301"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sankenbook.co.jp\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=301"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sankenbook.co.jp\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=301"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}