Friday, March 5, 2010

Why can't Japanese people speak English?

I think the reason Japanese people can't speak English very well is that they are hamstrung by their phonological system and by the nature of their grammar. Let's start with phonology:

Problem 1. No codas. An English syllable is made up of an onset (a consonant), a nucleus (a vowel), and a coda (another consonant) (together, CVC). There is, for the most part, no coda in Japanese (except for 'n' (which is much like a vowel, actually)). There are also hardly any complex onsets (except for a few, which are actually a consonant mixed with a 'y' ('ky', 'py', etc.), which in Japanese behaves more like 'i' (a vowel). Try explaining how to pronounce the word 'twelfth' (CCVCCC) to a kid who can only make CV sounds.

Problem 2. Japanese rejects diphthongs. Now, I know that in Japanese you can have more than one vowel sound in a row, but they aren't blended like they are in English. The only exception I can hear in Japanese is 'y' sounds, which Japanese people say like 'i'. For example, 'ya' is pronounced as a diphthong-ificated (ridiculous made up word, in case you couldn't tell) 'i' + 'a'. 'Yu' is 'i' + 'u', and 'yo' is 'i' + 'o'. That's why Japanese people can't tell the difference between 'year' and 'ear'. Because 'yee' is just 'i' + 'i', which is merely 'i'.

And forget triphthongs. 'Out' (VVVC) is out of the question. It gets pronounced 'aah oo toh' (V V CV).

Problem 3. And then they have no vowels. Come on, 5 vowels? What is this, Tagalog? You need like 17 vowels (give or take) to speak English.

Problem 4. In English, 'r' and 'l' should (in my opinion) be classified as vowels. That's how they behave. In Japanese, 'r' is very consonant-ey (also a made up word). That's why they have such a hard time saying it. We should just tell students to treat ‘r’ and ‘l’ as vowels.

Problem 5: In Japanese, many sounds (especially vowel sounds) are cut off with the throat, while in English, they fade out (like a good ol' he-sings-she-sings-they-sing-together '80s ballad). For example, Japanese people will pronounce the English word 'me' more like 'meet' (though not exactly).

Other problems: 'Th' is a killer for almost anyone learning English. Stress accent vs. pitch accent is also very hard. There are also a plethora of other problems that vex Japanese people. But really, I think that if you fix the main 5 problems, everything else combined would be only slightly worse than negligible.

By the way, I think that among the reasons Koreans speak English so much better than Japanese people do (despite Korean and Japanese being very similar, except for phonology) are that Koreans don’t have problem 1; [I don’t know anything about problem 2]; problem 3 isn’t so bad, because they have a lot more vowels than Japanese; problem 4 isn’t as bad, because they have a kind of ‘l’ sound; and [I don’t really know, but I think 5 is the same in Korean]. Just those few differences really translate into a huge gain in Koreans’ ability to speak English.

Anyway, here is an example of how problems 1-5 can frustrate a Japanese speaker:

'My name is Richard.'

CVV CVVC VC (V)V-C(V)C

'My': They can't say the diphthong 'ai'. Rather they separate it out into 'a' and 'i' (problem 2). Japanese people often cut off the 'i' unnaturally (Problem 5).

'Name': They can't add the 'm' (C) at then end, although this should be easy to teach, since 'm' is so close to their 'n' sound (problem 1). They also don't have the 'ei' diphthong. They will split it up into 'e' and 'i' (problem 2). The 'm' also gets a bit cut off, but not so bad (Problem 5).

'Is': They lack the correct vowel (problem 3). They also can't tack 'z' on as a coda (problem 1).

'Richard': I think Japanese people would rather tie 10,000 cherry stems in their mouth than attempt to say 'ri' as a kind of diphthong (problems 2, 3, 4, and 5). 'Ch' is no problem, but 'rd' is (problems 1 and 4).

What do you think the chances are that any native Japanese-speaking student would stumble onto these 5 problems, even in 6 years of English study? How about when they are handicapped by learning English through katakana? Forget it.

I just think we should first teach Japanese kids to say, "My name is Richard." If they could say that one phrase, then they would be equipped to begin speaking English.

As for grammar, I think the main problem lies in the fact that on the spectrum of analog to digital, English is analog, and Japanese is digital. Now, I know that prescriptivists (as all good people are) would say that English, too, is digital. That may be true, but not so much so as Japanese. You can hardly mess up one byte of code when speaking Japanese without the entire program freezing. Alternatively, you might think about how one atom out of place can really change a molecule. In comparison, even a large brushstroke out of place doesn’t render the English picture unrecognizable. I think that Japanese people simply take too digital of an approach to English grammar. And that might not be so bad. But how are we, professional oil painters, supposed to teach Japanese students, equipped only with Adobe Illustrator and Photoshop, how to create something that looks like an oil painting? (I know there is a logical fallacy or two in there, but you get my point.)

Friday, August 8, 2008

3 of 3 on 8/8/08: Camping on Squaw Peak

Colin, Ian, Andrew, and I went camping up on Squaw Peak. It was Ian's first time camping and Colin's third. Incidentally, the first time Colin went camping, we stayed at the camp site right next to the one we ended up staying at this time. We didn't do much. We ate, had a fire, and did cool guy things.
Here's a cool guy thing:
Here is a fire picture I took.
After staying up late and getting up relatively early, the kids were pooped!
We came home smelling (and looking) like firefighters!

2 of 3 on 8/8/08: Dividend, Utah

In the afternoon, Colin, Ian, Mom, Ninny, Grandpa, and I went for a drive to Eureka, Utah and Dividend, Utah. Dividend used to be a mining outpost outside of Eureka, but it has long been defunct. There isn't much story to tell here. There are pictures, though.
There were lots of dilapidated buildings.
Here are the water towers. They say "Tintic Standard." I believe this was the name of the mining company.
It was a bit dangerous walking around, because there were many nails sticking out of old boards.
There were large piles of sulfur-smelling mine tailings.
My Mom said it was poetic when I said this thing looked like a dinosaur.
I don't know about poetry, but it was a cool trip. Both times I have been to Dividend, I have not seen another soul. It is a great drive to take if you are looking for a unique trip near Utah County.

1 of 3 on 8/8/08: Bushwhacking behind Timp

I have always wanted to climb up on this large hill behind Mt. Timpanogos to take an early morning shot of the back side of the mountain. Well, since my clock was pretty jumbled because of jet lag, I woke up at 4:00. So I was like, "What should I do now?" Then I was like, "You know, I could make it up that one hill behind Timp before sunrise." So I packed up a few things, grabbed my headlamp, and headed out.

The hill ended up being about 1,000 feet of vertical (according to Google Earth), but it went by quickly. Photography conditions at the top were not ideal, but there was a ledge most of the way up that I had marked with a cairn. It didn't take much time to find it on the way down.

So here were some of my shots.

In the early morning hours, the aspens were just coming into view.
The bees were waking up from the flowers they had been sleeping on.
There was a lot of lichen-moss-fungus-mold stuff on the cliff rocks.
But the views of Mt. Timpanogos were the best of all.
By the way, the summit of Mt. Timpanogos is near the right side of the flat-topped rock toward the right of the frame.

The panorama view was nice, too.
The prominent peak at the right of the frame is the north peak of Timpanogos. And dropping off to the right (north) side of that peak is American Fork Canyon.

And by 8:07 a.m., it was already time to race off to outing number two for the day.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

Mt. Fuji

Well, I finally did it. I finally climbed Mt. Fuji. Andrew and I climbed it, that is.

We started out at the Kawaguchiko 5th Station which is at around 2300 meters (7500 ft.). We set out at 9:20 on the night of the 18th. The idea was to make it to the top before sunrise. Apparently, in Japan, it's a really cool thing to be on top of Mt. Fuji, Japan's highest and most famous peak, to watch the sun rise. It makes sense. After all, 日本 (Japan) means "origin of the sun."

As we hiked up the mountain, there were a series of mountain stations or huts, such as this one.

There are some bulldozer trails that go all the way up the mountain, and the huts keep themselves stocked with food and fuel via bulldozers.

The hike was going just great until I got altitude sickness somewhere between 10,000 and 11,000 feet. When I say altitude sickness, I am talking more about nausea and headache (and not the serious pneumonia and brain swelling). I could go just fine, I just couldn't walk too fast without feeling extremely nauseous.

I think there were a number of factors that came into play here. First, the altitude was fairly high (although not really that high--I mean, I have been higher). We also hadn't had any sleep (also been done before on overnight hikes). I have also been living in Minnesota at 1,000 feet for the last two years (probably not a huge factor, though). It was freezing cold and really humid (maybe a factor). I was really tired (whatever). But I think the biggest factor was that we went from a couple of hundred feet above sea level to 12,500 in a matter of 10 hours. But after I left the contents of my stomach at around 11,000 feet, I felt quite a bit better, and I was eventally able to get to the top, while only collapsing on the trail a few times to sleep. Yeah, it sounds pretty sad, doesn't it? . . .

But we did get to the top in time not only to see the actual sunrise, but also the gorgeous false sunrise. We actually arrived there at 4:15 or so, or about 7 hours after setting out. If I hadn't gotten sick, then I think we probably could have done it in more like 6 hours.

There were hundreds of other people on the summit.
Check out this sunrise photo,
and don't miss the several peaks, totally dwarfed, at the bottom of the picture.

And here were are at the top.
I look really happy, don't I?

After taking an hour or so to catch our breath (so to speak), we decided to walk around the crater on top. There were a few reasons for this. One was that the crater was pretty, and we wanted to see it. Another was that we wanted to look off of all sides of the mountain. But the most important reason to walk around the crater was that the actual highest point on the mountain was on the other side of the crater. Most people who hike Mt. Fuji never bother to walk over to it, but we decided to make the effort.
And here we are at the highest point in Japan.
The marker says, "日本最高峰富士山剣が峰三七七六米." [Tsurugi ga mune, Mt. Fuji, the highest peak in Japan. 3776 meters.]

It took us about 3 hours to walk around the crater, but if I had been feeling normal, it probably would have only taken half that time.

After we were almost all of the way around the crater, I decided to cave and get some oxygen at a hut on top of the mountain. Andrew actually went and got it, since I was in such sad shape.
I have to say that after taking about ten puffs of oxygen, not only did my headache go away immediately, but so did my nausea. It was terrific! I should have done it six hours earlier. It wasn't like the oxygen bestowed any super powers. It just made me feel more normal.

There were a lot of things to take pictures of up on the mountain. For example, there was plenty of snow, . . .
. . . plenty of clouds, . . .
. . . and even some Tibetan flags flapping in the wind at one of the huts.

After a long descent, we arrived back at the 5th Station just after 2:00 in the afternoon, 17 hours after we started out.

There were mobs of tourists there, waiting to begin the hike themselves.
Now, for those of you who are familiar with Mt. Timpanogos in Utah, I have to say that Mt. Fuji was a much more difficult hike, no matter how you look at it. Fuji is 12,388 feet tall (3,776 meters). Timp is tall, but only 11,749 feet (3,581 meters). That isn't a big difference. But whereas you could get up on top of Timp in around 5 hours and back down in like 3, Fuji is more like 6 and 4, and 7 and 5 for the actual highest point. Fuji also feels larger because the peak is 11,000 feet above the valley, whereas Timp is only like 7,000 feet above the valley. But I have to say that Timp is much prettier (no offense to the Japanese!).

But anyway, it was just good to get Fuji under my belt. Now all I have to do is forget how difficult it was so that I will want to come back again! I have almost forgotten already.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

Myogi-san (妙義山)

Today, my brother Andrew and I climbed Myogi-san in Gunma Prefecture, Japan. It was pretty awesome.
The hike, of course, began near a Shinto shrine with a 30-foot-tall, smiling, golden Buddha-looking statue (although it probably wasn't Buddha, since it was a Shinto shrine). We then began making our way almost straight up the hill. There were several spots along the trail where it was necessary to grab onto chains that had been pre-bolted into the walls.In several of these locations, if you were to let go of the chains, you would most certainly die, so it was a bit of a thrill. In fact, the last time I was there, I was talking to a woman who said, 「落ちれば、命がない。」"If you fall, you will have no life." Obviously, this means if you fall, you are dead as a doornail. So this time, I had Andrew bring some harnesses and some webbing and biners to clip into the chains. Eventually, we made it to the top.One cool thing about being on the top of the mountain was that no matter which way you stepped, you were certain to fall to your death.Another cool thing was that I saw this really cool bug on the very tip-top of the mountain. It was about an inch long. Heaven only knows what it was.Even coming down was a bit of a challege. More cliffs, chains, and ropes. By the way, I am clipped into the mountain at this point.All in all, it was a fun hike.
But the best part about hiking a Japanese mountain like this . . .. . . is that you are immediately endowed with mad Ninja skills like this: