ゆめかわいい (yume kawaii)

At one of my schools, students go all out on Sports Day.  It isn't so much that we're a particularly athletic school; it has more to do with the Endan, a trilogy of musical dance interpretations.  Usually much costume design and hair coloring is involved.  The three teams--Red, White, and Blue--dress and color accordingly.

So this happened back in May.  (My apologies as always for slacking on blogging.)  In one of my classes, a couple of girls in the back row were emanating a silvery glow from their white locks.  "Kawaii deshou?" asked someone sitting next to the silvery white-haired duo.  "Yume kawaii!"  I was saying "Wh-What--?" and she went on to explain the meaning of ゆめかわいい.  ゆめ is dream, and かわいい is of course cute/pretty, so ゆめかわいい is a dreamlike cuteness/prettiness, i.e. dreamy.  "She is like unicorn," finished the explanation.

Some nights later I was drinking with some Japanese colleagues and I told them the story.  One of them begged to differ with our students' interpretation of ゆめかわいい.  He learned the term some years back in his classical Japanese studies.  Long ago, he said, ゆめかわいい simply meant "very cute/pretty."  It was written in hiragana, so there was no kanji to denote the term's meaning.  But, according to my friend and colleague, ゆめ meant very (back in the day) and かわいい had the same meaning as it does now.  So ゆめかわいい was back then today's ちょうかわいい or めちゃかわいい.

On searching for examples of the term, I must say there were a lot of videos of makeup tips.  This is an example of how to make oneself up to be ゆめかわいい. 



Photos that turned up seemed to include white, pink, light blue, and other compatible colors.
 


Searching "yume kawaii fashion" and "yume kawaii box" turns up images congruent to the above.  I'm still trying to wrap my head around the yume kawaii box.  In my imagination, people who are really into are having it shipped to their homes.

YDK (Yareba Dekiru Ko, やればできる子)

I teach two eikaiwa classes, to our high school's 1st-years (in the states, we'd call them 10th graders).  During the third term, we focus on debating skills.

Before starting on debate, though, I always ask if anyone has something else they want to talk about, discuss, disclose...just anything they have going on in their lives that they'd like to be able to express in English.  One of my classes, a group of eight, always has something.  They like to have conversations about everyday things.  From one perspective, there's something ideal about this because it implies that they carry in them a self-motivation of some kind; it also lets them establishes a context through which they might readily remember what they learn.  In general, I feel that people retain information most easily when their interests are ignited, or engaged, so for them to bring their own topics of conversation is a good thing.

The downside is that these conversations take time, so we fell behind schedule in our debate practice.  My Japanese team-teacher and I were getting a little worried that we'd run out of time, maybe fall short of having an actual full debate before the end of term, and we expressed this to the class.  Our apprehensions were causeless.  The students threw themselves for one 45-minute period into a fully formatted and timed debate as my team-teacher sighed with relief.

As class ended, teachers complimented students, confessing our initial level of concern.  The students were not offended in the least, but rather nodded in assent.  They perhaps had their own doubts about how it would go.  But, one young lady said, "やっぱりYDK."  She probably anticipated my perplexity, and correctly so; she immediately followed by explaining her acronym, "やればできる子."  やれば means "if you do," and できる, of course, means "able to" or "can."  子 is short for 子供, or child.  So literally translated, I guess YDK would be something like "a child who, if s/he does something, can do it."  A less literal translation might be "someone who can do something if s/he tries."  Or "a child who, if  s/he tries, can succeed."  I sense that the hypothetical aspect to this phrase is an important connotation because it implies that intrinsic to the definition is an uncertainty, before trying/doing something, as to whether the person can do actually it.  And then by taking the leap the YDK dispels all doubts.  Although I didn't ask, I'd bet that this is a term coined by the youth of Japan.

However, since it's been used in commercials, television viewers around the nation, and because it has a dance named after it, I'm sure the general population knows or will soon come to know this acronym.

The article below was originally published at: 
http://theodysseyonline.com/le-moyne/11-beautiful-untranslatable-japanese-words/221351

All props to author Mare Sugio!!

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11 Beautiful Japanese Words That Don't Exist In English

Untranslatable words from Japan, the polite and nature-loving country.

Marie Sugio in Lifestyle on Nov 16, 2015

Once, when I asked my friend from a small tribe in Burma how they would say “breakfast” there, she told me that they didn’t have a word for it because they only ate twice a day--lunch and dinner. I happen to have a lot of friends who speak English as their second language and that made me realize that a language has a lot to do with its culture’s uniqueness. Because of that there are some untranslatable words.
In Japanese culture, people have a lot of appreciation towards nature and it is very important to be polite towards others. That politeness and the nature appreciation reflected on to its language and created some beautiful words that are not translatable to English.


いただきます　Itadakimasu

"Itadakimasu" means “I will have this.” It is used before eating any food to express appreciation and respect for life, nature, the person who prepared the food, the person who served the food, and everything else that is related to eating.


おつかれさま　Otsukaresama

"Otsukaresama" means “you’re tired.” It is used to let someone know that you recognize his/her hard work and that you are thankful for it.

木漏れ日　Komorebi

"Komorebi" refers to the sunlight that filters through the leaves of trees.


木枯らし　Kogarashi

"Kogarashi" is the cold wind that lets us know of the arrival of winter.


物の哀れ　Mononoaware

"Monoaware" is "the pathos of things." It is the awareness of the impermanence of all things and the gentle sadness and wistfulness at their passing.

森林浴　Shinrinyoku

“Shinrinyoku” ("forest bathing") is to go deep into the woods where everything is silent and peaceful for a relaxation.


幽玄　Yuugen

"Yuugen" is an awareness of the universe that triggers emotional responses that are too mysterious and deep for words.


しょうがない　Shoganai

The literal meaning of "Shoganai" is “it cannot be helped.” However, it is not discouraging or despairing. It means to accept that something was out of your control. It encourages people to realize that it wasn’t their fault and to move on with no regret.

金継ぎ/金繕い　kintsuki/kintsukuroi

"Kintsukuroi" is the art of repairing pottery with gold or silver joining the pieces and understanding that the piece is more beautiful for having been broken.
わびさび　Wabi-sabi

"Wabi-sabi" refers to a way of living that focuses on finding beauty within the imperfections of life and peacefully accepting the natural cycle of growth and decay.


擬音語　All the onomatopoeia

English has onomatopoeia, but Japanese has far more. For example, we have “om-nom-nom” for eating and they have “paku-paku” for eating normally, “baku-baku” for eating wildly, “gatsu-gatsu” for eating fast, “mogu-mogu” for chewing a lot, etc. Doesn’t it make your head spin? The onomatopoeia for that kind of dizziness is “kurukuru” by the way. The image above is showing some of those onomatopoeia. As you can see, Japanese onomatopoeia is usually a repetitive sound. Although it might be a very difficult concept to understand, it adds a melody and an emotional meaning to a word. Japanese sounds poetic because of the onomatopoeia.

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: