One Foot
After one month of language class, part of my brain is screaming that there is no way I will ever be able to speak Japanese with any level of fluency. That it's a joke to believe I'll even be able to read a beginner manga, let alone a Japanese novel. That, at best, I'll only ever be able to scrape together a few phrases to oil the gears and make transactions a touch easier.
That voice really needs to knock it off.
Ichi. Ni. San. Yon. Go. Roku. Nana. Hachi. Kyuu. Juu.
Nichiyoubi. Getsuyoubi. Kayoubi. Suiyoubi. Mokuyoubi. Kinyoubi. Doyoubi.
In a month, we went from counting numbers, naming days of the week, and basic self introductions–as well as writing notes in the crutch-language of Romanji–to complex sentences like:
- いっしょにカフェでべんきょうしましょうか。Shall we go study together at the cafe?
- せんしゅうしゅうまつ、私はひまじゃなかったです。日本語れんしゅうはとてもむずかしかったです。 Last week weekend, I was not free. Japanese language practice was very difficult.
In one month, as long as we have a teacher who goes at a reasonable speed, I can take notes in Hiragana writing at-speed.
When I watch anime, now I can pick out many words and understand their meaning when I couldn't even distinguish them before. From time to time I even catch the meaning of a whole phrase.
My to-do lists have changed over time. The date on top was the first to go. First, I spelled out the day of the week in Hiragana. Then I changed it to the appropriate Kanji. Then I updated the month with the appropriate Kanji. Now, Hiragana, Katakana, and Kanji have staged a coup and invaded the rest of my list.
That is after one month. One month of showing up every day even though I was sure that any second I was going to crash and burn and prove I wasn't cut out to learn a whole other language.
I am now two days into the second unit of this 18-month course. Two days in, and my brain has been through the grinder of "te" form, which transforms verbs into polite requests. This morning I was sure that I couldn't possibly come to grips with it. This conjugation table is just too difficult, I told Sergey.
After two separate 3-4 hour cafe study sessions, I have pulled these sentences from my te-form homework for your amusement.
- おっと、日本語をおしえてください！ My husband, please teach me Japanese!
- すみません。きのう、ねませんでした。私はつくえの上ねてもいいですか。Excuse me. Yesterday, I did not sleep. May I please sleep on top of the desk?
By the time I wrote those, I did not have to check the book to conjugate properly. I am confident that they are correct.
Walk The Moon is a band that puts out some of my favorite songs. They are unrelentingly positive and upbeat, but one of their songs tops the rest for me. It's about persevering together, and as I prepare once again for the commute to school, I get a little pep in my step as strains of the song One Foot roll through my mind.
Cross my heart
And hope to die
Taking this one step at a time
I got your back if you got mine
One foot in front of the other
I still have a voice in my head screaming that I'm a failure and a fraud, but it's a lot quieter these days. It feels like it's coming through a thick pane of glass and the ground-rending blows it used to deliver are now weak thunks against that barrier. My behavioral reactions to it are sometimes the same, but mostly out of habitual response–I no longer have the same level of emotional reaction that I used to. In fact, the emotional reaction is so low, I begin to wonder why I keep behaving the same way–saying things like, "I don't know if I can make it this time."
Two days and I broke through at least the basics of te-form, one of the harder things for English-to-Japanese learners to grasp. It's been just over one month. What will happen if I keep showing up every day for all 18 months?