Saturday, May 28, 2016
Friday, May 13, 2016
Making Use of Available Space
It's interesting to watch Tokyo always in a state of rebuilding, always putting up something bigger, better, nicer, always making use of available space.
I recall one 4 or 6 story building that was triangular and I was convinced that standing inside with outstretched arms one could reach to the ends of any side. I think that building is now gone. But here's another, a couple miles from that point, that's somewhat similar.
I recall one 4 or 6 story building that was triangular and I was convinced that standing inside with outstretched arms one could reach to the ends of any side. I think that building is now gone. But here's another, a couple miles from that point, that's somewhat similar.
I walked up close and guestimated. I'm pretty sure it's no wider than 2 feet across the narrow end, and about 15 feet across the wider end. There is a veterinary office in the lower part (also indicated by the yellow sign), and appear to be some apartments in the wider end. Above the veterinarian in the narrow end, one wonders if they're efficiency apartments or perhaps offices. Possibly each upper floor is just one wedge shaped apartment.
It's hard to see from this picture, but the entire cluster of buildings also form a larger triangle in the available space between two roads. (You can see the little road at left, and the sidewalk for a large road at right.)
Sunday, May 8, 2016
But, having said that...
There is in Japanese an increasing amount of English, pronounced with native Japanese sounds, as described in my previous post.
In addition, there is an increasing amount of straight English written everywhere. Some of it's for tourists - not only for Americans, but as the universal language, for all non-Japanese speakers. But much of it is clearly intended for Japanese consumption.
This reminds me of the English that was written in (what was about to become) the United States around the time of the Revolutionary War. This English was sprinkled with straight up French, or so is my impression from what I've read of it. At that time, a high percentage of those who could read and write English, knew that much French as well.
Similar in today's Japan, I do believe. I sometimes think one could almost get away with English vocabulary in a framework of Japanese grammar, along with a sprinkling of some basic Japanese verbs.
That is, one could possibly get by, so long as he knew how to say all those English words in Japanese. And for me at this point that is one of the most difficult parts of speaking this language. Since the borrowed English words don't sound like the originals (and don't always mean quite the same thing), one has to remember how to say each of these words. They are not logically based upon some borrowed Chinese roots as so many native Japanese words, and worse, they are seldom pronounced using the closest possible Japanese sounds.
Indeed, the conversion to Japanese typically goes by spelling, rather than by sound, sometimes causing conflation. Lamb Raisin ice cream anyone? A friend sent me a picture, taken in Japan, of such a delicacy. The problem is that both lamb and rum became ramu in Japanese, and they don't always choose the right one on the way back out. Actually, that's not a great example of my point, because it would appear the pronunciation of rum might have been chosen for sound, or it might have turned out to be rumu.
When words come into Japanese, they typically end up full of glottal stops and long duration vowels. The idea of the glottal stop is as follows: take a word with a double consonant, such as stopped. Now say both p's when pronouncing: Stop ped. This is common in Japanese words, and used very often in borrowed words, often making them sound entirely different than they did in English.
The long duration vowel is also used often in both native Japanese and borrowed English words. For example, the word room is ru-mu or ruumu, and it's intended that the vowel sound be held longer than for the word rumu, if there were one.
I know many foreigners who know how to order a beer in Japanese: bi-ru. If they said only biru, that would mean building because that word is typically abbreviated. Of course, a foreigner sitting in a bar or restaurant that orders a biru, doesn't end up with a $48M tab and title to the establishment, though that would certainly teach him to watch his language. But out of context this would cause confusion.
In addition, there is an increasing amount of straight English written everywhere. Some of it's for tourists - not only for Americans, but as the universal language, for all non-Japanese speakers. But much of it is clearly intended for Japanese consumption.
This reminds me of the English that was written in (what was about to become) the United States around the time of the Revolutionary War. This English was sprinkled with straight up French, or so is my impression from what I've read of it. At that time, a high percentage of those who could read and write English, knew that much French as well.
Similar in today's Japan, I do believe. I sometimes think one could almost get away with English vocabulary in a framework of Japanese grammar, along with a sprinkling of some basic Japanese verbs.
That is, one could possibly get by, so long as he knew how to say all those English words in Japanese. And for me at this point that is one of the most difficult parts of speaking this language. Since the borrowed English words don't sound like the originals (and don't always mean quite the same thing), one has to remember how to say each of these words. They are not logically based upon some borrowed Chinese roots as so many native Japanese words, and worse, they are seldom pronounced using the closest possible Japanese sounds.
Indeed, the conversion to Japanese typically goes by spelling, rather than by sound, sometimes causing conflation. Lamb Raisin ice cream anyone? A friend sent me a picture, taken in Japan, of such a delicacy. The problem is that both lamb and rum became ramu in Japanese, and they don't always choose the right one on the way back out. Actually, that's not a great example of my point, because it would appear the pronunciation of rum might have been chosen for sound, or it might have turned out to be rumu.
When words come into Japanese, they typically end up full of glottal stops and long duration vowels. The idea of the glottal stop is as follows: take a word with a double consonant, such as stopped. Now say both p's when pronouncing: Stop ped. This is common in Japanese words, and used very often in borrowed words, often making them sound entirely different than they did in English.
The long duration vowel is also used often in both native Japanese and borrowed English words. For example, the word room is ru-mu or ruumu, and it's intended that the vowel sound be held longer than for the word rumu, if there were one.
I know many foreigners who know how to order a beer in Japanese: bi-ru. If they said only biru, that would mean building because that word is typically abbreviated. Of course, a foreigner sitting in a bar or restaurant that orders a biru, doesn't end up with a $48M tab and title to the establishment, though that would certainly teach him to watch his language. But out of context this would cause confusion.
Saturday, May 7, 2016
Za hiruzu ah araibu uida sanda myujikku
Did you recognize the first line of a famous song in my title? The hills are alive with the sound of music. Surely you've heard of it.
The other day we saw a Japanese lady on TV singing it in the Japanized English such as above; my English-speaking Japanese wife asked, "What'd she just say?"
This to me is one of the largest problems the Japanese have with English: they insist on writing it in Japanese symbols, which, even with all the available tricks, cannot produce the correct English pronunciations.
Actually, they can do whatever they please when borrowing an English word for use in Japanese. We do the same thing such as with karaoke, which we pronounce in a way that is utterly unrecognizable as Japanese. The kara is actually the same one as in karate, which we get close to right, but for some reason we insist on pronouncing it carry. Who knows why. (And in Japanese the oke part is okeh, not okie.)
But the problem for Japanese English speakers arises when they insist on memorizing English words that have been written in Japanese symbols, and then expect the English speaking world to understand them. Not going to happen.
Some years back when my kids were young, I was walking along with them out in the Japanese countryside when a gentleman out on his porch said, "Guddo moruningu."
When I responded with "Good morning," one of my boys said, "Oh, that's what he said." And that one's by no means the worst example.
They insist on pronouncing hello as haroh. I tell people haroh is a Japanese word, not an English one. I usually take this one step farther and say something along the lines of haroh-gozaimasu, since the word sounds as though it's been conjugated for that construction.
Sure, there are those native English speakers who pronounce the word as hallo, but I've never met one that pronounced it haroh. As I said, do what you want in Japanese, but don't be surprised when it doesn't work as English. The opposite is true as well.
The other day we saw a Japanese lady on TV singing it in the Japanized English such as above; my English-speaking Japanese wife asked, "What'd she just say?"
This to me is one of the largest problems the Japanese have with English: they insist on writing it in Japanese symbols, which, even with all the available tricks, cannot produce the correct English pronunciations.
Actually, they can do whatever they please when borrowing an English word for use in Japanese. We do the same thing such as with karaoke, which we pronounce in a way that is utterly unrecognizable as Japanese. The kara is actually the same one as in karate, which we get close to right, but for some reason we insist on pronouncing it carry. Who knows why. (And in Japanese the oke part is okeh, not okie.)
But the problem for Japanese English speakers arises when they insist on memorizing English words that have been written in Japanese symbols, and then expect the English speaking world to understand them. Not going to happen.
Some years back when my kids were young, I was walking along with them out in the Japanese countryside when a gentleman out on his porch said, "Guddo moruningu."
When I responded with "Good morning," one of my boys said, "Oh, that's what he said." And that one's by no means the worst example.
They insist on pronouncing hello as haroh. I tell people haroh is a Japanese word, not an English one. I usually take this one step farther and say something along the lines of haroh-gozaimasu, since the word sounds as though it's been conjugated for that construction.
Sure, there are those native English speakers who pronounce the word as hallo, but I've never met one that pronounced it haroh. As I said, do what you want in Japanese, but don't be surprised when it doesn't work as English. The opposite is true as well.
Thursday, May 5, 2016
If you had a Noah, where would you park it?
I don't find the two-car parking lots all over this town to be unusual. Parking is scarce, and if you had a small chunk of land available, someone would be glad to pay you something to allow them to park there.
The thing that does amuse me, is that even the two-car lots, such as this one, tend to have an electronic sign letting you know if they have a space available.
That character just below the large P at right is on an electronic display. This one means there is space available. There's a different one when the lot is full. Thing is, you often can't see this until you're about close enough to see the spaces, and yet, they've gone to the expense of providing the sign. (It's probably part of the overall parking lot package they bought somewhere. They're all remarkably similar. There's no attendant, obviously. You park and the gizmo locks until you pay the machine.)
This is in a residential area, not downtown or near a train station. These days a Yen is running pretty close to a penny, so this says the maximum charge is about $18 for a 12 hour period. Its about $2 for a half hour between 8 AM and 10 PM, and about $1 for two hours otherwise.
The thing that does amuse me, is that even the two-car lots, such as this one, tend to have an electronic sign letting you know if they have a space available.
That character just below the large P at right is on an electronic display. This one means there is space available. There's a different one when the lot is full. Thing is, you often can't see this until you're about close enough to see the spaces, and yet, they've gone to the expense of providing the sign. (It's probably part of the overall parking lot package they bought somewhere. They're all remarkably similar. There's no attendant, obviously. You park and the gizmo locks until you pay the machine.)
This is in a residential area, not downtown or near a train station. These days a Yen is running pretty close to a penny, so this says the maximum charge is about $18 for a 12 hour period. Its about $2 for a half hour between 8 AM and 10 PM, and about $1 for two hours otherwise.
Saturday, April 30, 2016
Noah, and Other Members of the Zark Family
Toyota makes a van called Noah. I'd noticed it before and thought it was a funny name for a car. Wondered if the people who named it had ever read the Bible, etc.
And then one day I was standing on the sidewalk watching a Noah drive by and it dawned on me: this is a large van for Japan. At least large for a passenger vehicle in Japan. They did read the Bible (or maybe heard the book on tape version).
Far as I can tell it doesn't come complete with a male and female of every species. Maybe they didn't read the entire story.
And then one day I was standing on the sidewalk watching a Noah drive by and it dawned on me: this is a large van for Japan. At least large for a passenger vehicle in Japan. They did read the Bible (or maybe heard the book on tape version).
Far as I can tell it doesn't come complete with a male and female of every species. Maybe they didn't read the entire story.
Tuesday, April 26, 2016
The Medical Profession
So what's with the medical profession there in the States? Some time ago a dentist shot a known and named lion in Africa or somewhere, and now there's a vet who shot a cat with an arrow and posted it on Facebook. She says feral, neighbors say pet. You know, a tomato, tomahto sort of thing. Now she's fighting to keep her veterinary license.
I'd say she should lose her license just for proving she's not smart enough to be a vet. As dumb as we are all getting, soon the police will need only Facebook to investigate our crimes.
So far as I know at this time, the medical profession here in Japan is nowhere near that colorful. Or violent? Well, at least not as colorful.
Since I last wrote about the dentist I have been to a chiropractor, and then back to the dentist. I will see them both again today.
The chiropractor was nothing unusual except that he spent about an hour working me over.
Back at the dentist, different doctor this time - perhaps luck of the draw on that, the clinic seems to have at least four. Pain had not subsided since last visit, and I figured they were going to do a root canal. But he determined that the tooth was actually cracked up into the root and extracted it. At least I didn't need a root canal. (I had actually suspected it was cracked the last time and mentioned it. But apparently it was difficult to find until I cleaved it further, breaking away the temporary seal.)
It will be interesting to see what they recommend for long-term repair. That clinic does do implants, but I do also have good teeth on both sides, so we'll see if they recommend a bridge instead.
I didn't know the words for the various instruments he kept sending his assistant after. But I'm pretty sure if I could have remembered them long enough to have looked them up, they would be along the lines of number 58 monkey wrench, crow bar, 12 pound mallet, needle noise vice grips, and long-handled channel locks.
The tooth may have broken, but that didn't mean it didn't have every intention of remaining in my head. The dentist didn't take "no" or "ouch" for an answer, however. Actually, he did ask after my welfare a number of times, and gave me an extra shot - which hurt about as much as the wrenching - when I wasn't quite numb enough up high.
So far, I'm impressed with the representatives of the medical profession I've met here. Silly me, I can't help but find some fun in the new experiences, monkey wrenches and all.
I'd say she should lose her license just for proving she's not smart enough to be a vet. As dumb as we are all getting, soon the police will need only Facebook to investigate our crimes.
So far as I know at this time, the medical profession here in Japan is nowhere near that colorful. Or violent? Well, at least not as colorful.
Since I last wrote about the dentist I have been to a chiropractor, and then back to the dentist. I will see them both again today.
The chiropractor was nothing unusual except that he spent about an hour working me over.
Back at the dentist, different doctor this time - perhaps luck of the draw on that, the clinic seems to have at least four. Pain had not subsided since last visit, and I figured they were going to do a root canal. But he determined that the tooth was actually cracked up into the root and extracted it. At least I didn't need a root canal. (I had actually suspected it was cracked the last time and mentioned it. But apparently it was difficult to find until I cleaved it further, breaking away the temporary seal.)
It will be interesting to see what they recommend for long-term repair. That clinic does do implants, but I do also have good teeth on both sides, so we'll see if they recommend a bridge instead.
I didn't know the words for the various instruments he kept sending his assistant after. But I'm pretty sure if I could have remembered them long enough to have looked them up, they would be along the lines of number 58 monkey wrench, crow bar, 12 pound mallet, needle noise vice grips, and long-handled channel locks.
The tooth may have broken, but that didn't mean it didn't have every intention of remaining in my head. The dentist didn't take "no" or "ouch" for an answer, however. Actually, he did ask after my welfare a number of times, and gave me an extra shot - which hurt about as much as the wrenching - when I wasn't quite numb enough up high.
So far, I'm impressed with the representatives of the medical profession I've met here. Silly me, I can't help but find some fun in the new experiences, monkey wrenches and all.
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