Friday, March 5, 2010
Why can't Japanese people speak English?
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

2 of 3 on 8/8/08: Dividend, Utah
There were lots of dilapidated buildings.
1 of 3 on 8/8/08: Bushwhacking behind Timp
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 panorama view was nice, too.
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
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.
There were mobs of tourists there, waiting to begin the hike themselves.
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)
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).

But the best part about hiking a Japanese mountain like this . . .