Jigyaku-teki (自虐的, じぎゃくてき）

Jigyaku-teki (自虐的, じぎゃくてき）is the word for self-deprecating, an essential part of Japanese culture.  As the friend who taught this to me texted, "Japanese people really like to be Jigyakuteki."

I You Tubed 自虐的 and looked through a couple dozen videos, but none of them conveyed (to me) the meaning of this term.  The video that made me most uncomfortable was (according to the description) someone trying to "fix" his belly button using a belt and key holder.  I don't mean anything judgmental, but I don't know what that's about...I don't really want to put the visual on this blog, but if anyone wants to see it (and can understand it), the url is

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VgE_sAdZsRI

Anyway, may 2016 bring us all some great and blessed things!
あけおめ！ことよろ！

はやべん (hayaben)

When my students eat lunch early, e.g. between classes in the morning, they call it はやべん.  The はや is short for 早い (はやい, hayai), which means early.  The べん is short for 弁当　(べんとう, bentou), the word for lunchbox.


The Rap






The Game

不可知論者 （ふかちろんしゃ, fukachironsha）

不可知論者　（ふかちろんしゃ）means agnostic.  A friend of mine, a philosophy major, taught me this word recently during a conversation about religion in Japan.  It's probably common knowledge that Shintoism and Buddhism are the most practiced religions in the country, a large percentage of the population categorizing themselves as having no religion.  

One source, www.japan-guide.com/topic/0002.html, cites several surveys.

This topic came up sometimes when I used to teach adults at an eikaiwa.  Quite a number of my students felt that the scarcity of strong commitment within the population to organized religion played a role in the low crime rate and generally safe conditions in Japan...I don't think they were knocking religion; they were trying to say that few people get violent over God/gods over here.

My friend and I were discussing whether the non-affiliated category indicated more of an atheist or agnostic mindset...She also said that a lot of people might not be familiar with the term 不可知論者, as it may be somewhat of a technical term.

読書の秋 (どくしょのあき, dokusho no aki)

Literally, "autumn of reading,"  読書の秋 means that autumn is a good season to catch up on one's reading.  As it was explained to me, autumn is an ideal time for this because the temperature is comfortable and life during these months aren't usually terribly busy, for most folks.  Spring, also a comfortable month, is less than ideal for sitting and reading because in Japan, April is the month of new beginnings (new school year, new employment) and is therefore a hectic period.  Summer, a less comfortable month temperature-wise in most of the country (hot!), presents too many alluring activities in the outdoors, e.g. swimming, fireworks, and festivals.  Winter, certainly a time for curling up with a good book or other kinds of pages, is cold and busy when Christmas and the New Year comes around.  And so autumn is the season to read.

There are other _____ no aki sayings.

スポーツの秋 (スポーツのあき, supōtsu no aki) is an expression that tells us that autumn is a good time for sports, as it isn't too hot or cold.

食欲の秋 (しょくよくのあき, shokuyoku no aki) refers to the increase in appetite that many feel as the air cools and autumn foods (persimmon, chestnuts, saury, and grilled sweet potatoes) surround us.

 

ガツリ (gatsuri)

My students taught me this--ガツリ basically means めちゃ, or very, really. 

For example, "I really want to eat yakiniku!"= 焼肉（を）ガツリ食べたい！(Yakiniku gatsuri tabetai!)

It may be that some younger people use this term a bit different from middle-aged/older people.  My college students taught it to me, and it came about like this:  as a writing activity, I asked them to write letters to their older, future selves.  (This was in conjunction with watching a movie in which the main characters record a video for their older selves; I was trying to give my students a chance for a similar experience.)  As the class sat quietly, contemplating the letter they were about to write, some of them started to ask one another about how old were the future selves to which they were writing.  Some of them were writing to their forty-year-old selves, some a little older.  But one of them said that she wanted to be ガツリおばあちゃん (gatsuri obaachan), which was her term to signify a really old lady.

When I asked around about the gatsuri obaachan usage, most (including high school and college students) said that it sounded a little weird.  Basically, they said that gatsuri is used as an adverb, e.g. gatsuri ikitai (I really want to go), or gatsuri mitai (I really want to see it). 

目が泳ぐ （めはおよぐ, me ga oyogu）

Literally this means "Your eyes are swimming," which is a way to say "You're lying."  This feels very similar to the English expression, "Look me in the eye and say that"--both statements seem predicated on the idea (accurate or not) that it's hard to look into someone's eyes and lie.  Me ga oyogu  suggests that the person being spoken to can't keep his/her eyes still because s/he is lying.  I've only heard this expression said a few times, always in the form of teasing:  「うそでしょう！目が泳いでいるよ！」 ("Uso deshou!  Me ga oyoideiru yo!")

This  video. . .isn't anything like the context around which I learned the phrase and has nothing to do with anyone lying.  But it's the most interesting video that I came across in looking for visual examples of 目が泳ぐ.  I wish I could've seen my own reaction as I watched it for the first time; I was leaning back in my chair thinking "Oh my goodness," at the same time unable to divert my eyes from watching it.

親孝行 (おやこうこう, oyakoukou)

親孝行 (おやこうこう, oyakoukou) is one of the terms that comes up fairly often in class, whenever people are talking about family, their parents, their childhood, growing into adulthood. . .When my students look up this word on their electronic dictionaries, the most frequent definition is "filial piety."  When I try to recall situations, or times, in which I've heard anyone ever mention this English phrase, I draw a blank.  So I never advise my students to use the phrase in conversation; instead, I suggest that a clearer (albeit stiff-sounding) option might be "dutiful son/daughter/child."  More naturally, one might simply call an oyakoukou a good son/daughter/child.

The term can be used as a suru verb, e.g. 親孝行したい for "I want to be a good son/daughter,"  "I want to do right by my parents," etc.  To 親孝行する can take many forms.  In childhood, perhaps helping around the house and keeping up with school.  In adult years, it could mean taking your parents on trips or buying them nice things for the home.  Later on in life, it might mean taking care of them in their twilight years.  Beautifully, it can mean whatever each of us thinks it means to be thankful and appreciative to our parents (or to whomever raised us and cared for us).  One of my friends once told me that her parents told her to simply live a happy and healthy life, and that by doing so she would be an 親孝行.

That so many of my students have asked me about this term reminds me of the importance of this aspect in Japanese (and generally in Asian) culture.  I don't mean that only children in Asian cultures are good to their parents; I don't mean that Asian children are any better to their parents than people in other parts of the world.  I imagine it depends on the person, every time.  But it's nice that a word exists to embody this concept, in Japanese or in any other language

Recently, Back to the Future was on TV, and I was reminded of a terrific example for what it means to be a good child to your parent.  I supposed this will only make sense if you've seen the movie; in this clip, after the kiss, when George (Crispin Glover) waves to Marty (Michael J. Fox), I always feel like "Marty本当に親孝行しました!"  What better way could a son do right by his father than to help him become a better man?  God, I love it when a movie gets the moment right.




This scene's got nothing to do with  親孝行, but it's in the movie and I really like it. . .

それな～ (sore na)

それな is another way to say 「そうですね」, which is a phrase to express agreement, as in "I agree," "I think so too," "Yeah, that's  right!", "You can say that again," and "I know what you're saying."  (A more casual version of 「そうですね」 is 「だよね」.

At this time, それな  is a younger person's expression.  One thing worth noting is the intonation; people tell me that it should be spoken with a rising tone.  Below are some examples. 

Apparently people sing about it:

AVEX won't let you see the video on this blog, but the URL is:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pgvb6t2oLqg

and laugh about it 


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And this was kind of interesting I thought, partly because she slides back and forth so effortlessly between Korean and Japanese.  I don't know much of what she's saying, but it's somewhat heartening to me, given recent tensions between South Korea and Japan.  Nice that there are people who move toward bridging things (which is what I think she's doing, but since I don't speak Korean, I can't be sure).





This is Jpop in its high-pitched revelry:

Galapagos

In my day to day life, the word Galápagos mostly comes up in reference to pre-iPhone cells that a person had to flip open (flip-phones), which are called ガラケイ(garakei), a compound of ガラパゴス (Galapagos, as in the Galápagos Islands) and ケータイ (keitai, or cell phones).  Generally, it seems like people use the term to denote old-fashioned, cheaper and less-than-cool phones, but this article from Forbes nicely explains some of the complexities implied.  

 http://www.forbes.com/sites/jadelstein/2015/03/05/in-japan-people-are-flipping-out-over-the-flip-phone-galapagos-phone-whats-old-is-new-again/

Monthly bills for smart phones in Japan take a bit of a bite; I'm lucky if I pay less than 7000 yen per month, and I use my iPhone considerably less than most of my friends.  I like the article's parallel between Japan the island-nation and the island of Galápagos, even though it kind of scares me to think of things in such a way.  My favorite part of the article is its coining of the phrase "the spiderweb of death" to illustrate a cracked iPhone/smart phone screen.

Galápagos is also used in ガラパゴス化 (Garapagosu-ka, or the Galápagos syndrome) which, according to Wikipedia, "is a term of Japanese origin, which refers to an isolated development branch of a globally available product. . .a reference to similar phenomena Charles Darwin encountered in the Galápagos Islands, with its isolated flora and fauna, originally coined to refer to Japanese 3G mobile phones, which had developed a large number of specialized features and dominated Japan, but were unsuccessful abroad."  (see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gal%C3%A1pagos_syndrome)  

かまちょ (kamacho)

My students taught me this a few days ago, although I can't recall the context in which it came up.  This word, usually written in hiragana, is a fusing of the verb 構う (かまう、kamau, which means to take care of someone or something), and  ちょだい (chodai, or please).  Therefore 構うちょだい (kamau chodai) expresses the sentiment "please take care of me," or something to that effect.  My students inferred that the word portrays someone who doesn't like to be alone.  In other words, a somewhat needy person, someone who wants to be cared for.

There is a song entitled 「かまちょ」,  not really the kind of music I usually listen to, but anyway here it is:



The other result that consistently comes up is the You Tube channel of a young woman who goes by the name せりまかこ (Seri Kamacho, or Serika for short).  Her channel can be found at

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCpQZ8F_1wcFAm6fzYz_YNZg

and this is one of the videos on her channel

アイアイ傘 (love umbrella)

Although a phonetic translation of  アイアイ傘 (ai ai gasa) might suggest "love love umbrella," as ai (愛) means love, a kanji writing of the term is 相合傘, which does not use the character  愛.  Enter 相合傘 into a translator (such as can be found at http://ejje.weblio.jp/content/Japanese-English+dictionary) and a definition will come up along the lines of "Umbrella under which a couple of man and woman walk close together."

I learned this from one of the Japanese teachers of English at a school where I  teach.  He had on the previous day seen a couple of our students, one male and one female, sharing an umbrella.  He was good-naturedly teasing them as he used the anecdote to teach me this phrase.  

When I checked for what kind of images this term would procure on the internet, I came across this picture:

And I thought to  myself, Wait a minute, isn't that Yoona from SNSD (aka Girls' Generation, the megapopular Kpop group)?  I clicked to go to the webpage, at 

http://ticket-news.pia.jp/pia/news.do?newsCd=201207250001

and I realized that yes, it was her and her co-star from the drama Love Rain. I saw it sometime last year, and I recall that the yellow umbrella was an important device for the bonding of two main characters.  I don't know if there's an equivalent phrase in the Korean language, but I'll ask some of my Korean friends and/or students.

In the realm of Japanese media, it seems that there's a song called  アイアイ傘 performed by a boy-duet, テゴマス (Tegomass).  The original video was hard to find; the links seem to be largely disabled or deleted, perhaps a decision by their record label.   All I could find was this handheld camera video of a TV screen.

 

It's not the kind of music I generally listen to, but there were some karaoke covers which I found impressive for the singing.