Indian Diet
10 Apr 2012 2 Comments
in Culture, English Posts, Life Tags: beauty, chapati, cooking, diet, food, health, healty, indian food
OK, I admit that I am becoming a little bit “round shaped” these days, in other words, gramorous (maybe it’s a wrong word choice for me but still).
I had been a very thin person in my whole life and used to get sick very often. But when I went to Japan twice in the last three months and was fed the fatty rice every day, I passed the certain weight called “the standard weight.” I don’t get sick, I have more stamina, so I don’t lose weight easily also, good or bad.
Like some Korean mothers, my Japanese mom quite cares about her single daughter’s beauty and often send me some cosmetics, diet protein, and a series of books titled “How to become the most beautiful woman in the world” written by a famous diet consultant of Miss Universes. It sounds ridicurous but I actually learnt how much my life is against being nominated for Mss Universe.
My mother is a kind of person who buy three exact-same shirts from a discount cart and wear every day and who never wears cosmetics in her whole life. So I am not really convinced when she tries to educate me on beauty. But basically her point is that if I don’t start being conscious in my 30th, I will pay a prise in my 50th. That actually makese sense.
My colleague taught me how to cook chapati
I wanna stay in fit and look hot in my 50s too, so I do little by little. Eating healthy food, doing light exercise, drinking lots of water, etc, etc. I basically hate makeup, am pretty bad at selecitng cloth (my concept of shopping is also basically a buy-one-get-two t-shirt cart), and I am a major meat eater and drinker. So those things don’t naturally come to me. It needs a certain effort not to come to the office in gym t-shirt with jumping messy hair.
The beauty book tells me I should eat brown stuff (brown bread, brown rice, brown sugar) and avoid white stuff (white bread, white rice, white sugar), so I cook chapati, use jaggery for taste, and drink tea and red wine. Indian food can be fatty but also healthy if you select and cook well. I am sorry but I can’t avoid potato chips even all books say it’s the world worst food ever, because I have an old tie and emotional connection with them.
Bombay To Goa (3) Optimistic drivers
23 May 2011 2 Comments
in Culture, English Posts, Life Tags: bombay to goa, driving, driving school, featured, featured-English, india drivers license
Driving lesson is going quite well. My instructor said he has nothing to teach me any more so I can take the driving test before completing the course. Oh yes, I am a good student, as it’s my second driving school. If I wasn’t good, am I a complete bonehead or what.
Not like in India, driving lesson in Japan starts on a circuit attached to driving schools. It’s about a half kilometer by a half kilometer size training circuit which has everything in it. There’s a curve, a crank, parking areas for normal parking and parallel parking, a hill, and even a fake railway to cross. After a few weeks of the circuit training, you take a paper test and driving test to get a learner’s license, and finally you can get out on the real roads. So getting a driver’s license is kind of difficult, but it keeps the high standards in the average driving technique and understanding of traffic rules of the drivers.
I doubt Indian style driving lesson and license issuance system is actually working to prevent traffic accidents. I kind of knew that, but it was proven after I saw two of my peers who take lessons after me are terrible, terrible, terrible drivers though they are almost completing the four weeks lessons.
Why I know they are so terrible is because of the school’s lesson system. Every morning after I take a lesson, I drive down to their apartments to pick the next student up, and switch the seats. The next student then drives to my flat and drops me off, and continues the lesson. So I am forced to sit in the back seat of the car the next student is driving. It’s a horror, really seriously scary. I sometime even feel like screaming for danger.
One collage girl has already completed about fifteen lessons when I joined. What is scary about her is that she drives in zigzag way, so the car is always almost hitting other cars parked along the street, or people, or trees. She never uses the break even if the car is so close to hit a bicycle in front or a big bus is crossing the street. After she drops me home, I always find myself sweating at my back and palm badly.
One more guy who sometimes takes a lesson after me has a very weird way of turning a staring. It’s like juggling…, I don’t know if you can imagine. When he cuts to right or left, he moves the gripping point on the handle like one hundred times very very fast so the handle moves but his hands are always in the same position. It was a very shocking way of cutting. It looks like the instructor never cares about how he cut the handle as long as the car is moving the right direction in the end.
So basically, the idea is that they don’t aim to produce perfect drivers. Driving school is just about getting basic skill and ideas of driving, and drivers actually learn everything on the real road after getting the license and a car. Good or bad, that’s one of the common customs in India; you get to learn everything on the road. All learning is bottom-up. Theories and philosophy comes out of practice. If you wanna drive Bombay streets, you have to learn on Bombay streets so you will know what driving-in-Bombay is about. “But what if I get crashed in the lessons?” you might ask. I did ask. But your instructor would answer “But you wouldn’t, right?” Without optimism, what is life in Bombay? Yes, that’s the way we drive.
Bombay To Goa (2) – Wild driving lesson
12 May 2011 Leave a Comment
in Culture, English Posts, Life
I started going to a driving school since two weeks back, and I took seven driving lessons and three lectures on defensive driving. It’s super fun. After a half month, I will be a proper Indian driving license holder. It sounds like a membership of Indian middle class adult club.
Indian driver’s license is normally valid for ten years for citizens. Sadly, RTO (Regional Transport Office) issues a license for foreigners only valid till the end date of my working visa. Indian working visa validity is only one year. This means that I have to refresh my license every year at my visa renewal. I feel like almost getting married with some random Indian man to avoid such troublesome document works every year.
By the way, I have a proper Japanese driver’s license and have more than ten years experience as a driver. I wouldn’t say I am a good driver, but passing the driving test is easy in India; you are only asked to go forward and go reverse. That’s all. No paper test, no parking test, nothing. But I still decided to take a beginners’ course to be safe. Because I was so sure that I have to learn all unspoken rules on Indian roads.
The first lesson starts on the real main street. The instructor sit next of me and explain the positions of accelerator, brake, crutch, and the gear super quickly (in Hindi, of course), and say “Chalo, let’s go.” Only after five minutes I started the first lesson, I find myself driving a car in between busses and rickshaws on the main street.
We start at eight a.m., when the traffic is not very busy. When I am about to stop the car at the red signal, the instructor says “Don’t stop, chalo chalo go go!” I am puzzled and ask “Why are we not stopping at the signal?” He says, “It’s early morning. Forget about the signal. See, there’s no other car crossing the road. Ha ha ha!” OK, no traffic rule when there’s no traffic. Check.
Or I slow down the car or try to stop when rickshaws or people are crossing the road just in front of my car. Again the instructor says “Don’t stop. Go, go, go!” So I say “But how could I go. The rickshaw and people are over there in front!” He laughs and says “Be brave! Driving needs courage! Ha ha ha!” Hmm, I see. Make the smaller move away on my road. Check.
This driving school is a good one. There’s a very good instructor who does a set of lecture on Sunday. He does lectures on defensive driving, traffic rules, accident case studies, or emergency solution. He talks very well and students all laugh at his joke joke joke.
It’s actually very practical. The above stories don’t mean that Indian drivers are bad drivers. It’s just how the traffic works and how to survive in the wild Bombay roads. You need very good ability of dynamic vision if you want to drive a car in India. People, cycles, rickshaws come from all directions. But I still think that it is possible for me if all other people are doing it. I am at least better than the girl who is taking a lesson after me (she’s a quite terrible driver).
It’s just an update. I will write stories of this Bombay driving quest now and then. Oh I need to find a good second hand car; that will be a longish story.
Eating A Bit of the Bombay Street
27 Feb 2011 Leave a Comment
in Culture, English Posts
OUTLOOK featured about India’s street food culture. It writes, “The non-funs look at the oil that’s been re-heated a dozen times, the grubby nails on the fingers that tunk the vada into the old, the smudged newspaper that the pavs came wrapped in…” but according to the funs, “What’s street food without a bit of the street in it?”
Bombay streets are usually very dusty. So it’s not avoidable to eat a bit of the street in food, actually. White rice comes with daal get slightly gray because of the sand and emissions if you eat so slowly. Samosas or veg pokodas are kept open counter exposed next of the smokey main street and fried and fried again.
I guess it is too obvous to tell, but I am a huge fun of the street food, by the way. Bombay is a heaven of funky street snacks. Pani puri, dahi puri, vada pav, chiken, mutton or beef kebabs, baked corns, pel, aloo chaat, aruwari, pokoda, baj pav, pav baj, kene juice, buruji, omlet, baked sandwitch, and franky rolls (*the spelling of Indian food names must be wrong).
If you are the first time visitor in Bombay, you will find so many snacks which you’ve never seen or imagined before. Yogult, potatos, and coriander mix, or spicy water in fried snack? Jeez, it’s beyond my imagination. I always want visitors from my country to try such fun street foods, but not all people have courage to get stomachache during a short prescious trip to the mysterious country. Only my mother told me “I want to eat anything, everything!” so I took my mother to all my favorite stalls. It was a very fun day.
I buy a handful of roasted penuts on the way, eating walking. I feel a bit thirsty and buy coconut water or a guava and drink sitting on a block. After picking up a few grossaries, I feel a bit hungry and bite a little sandwitch or a roll for lunch. Some stalls open only at night. I order a plate of momos or egg buruji for dinner, and buy a stick of kurfi or mango gola for desert. A Sunday with a snack in my hand on a street never ends.
One tip for street food lovers from my doctor is “See the steam coming out.” Heated food is usually safe. Raw vegetables or fruits, or pre-cooked source or water have higher chance to be gone bad. I try to play safe. But my basic belief in food sanitary is “This uncle is eating it every day, why would I get sick?” When it comes to foods, my stomach needs a complete freedom.
A Life in A Beauty Parlor
19 Feb 2011 2 Comments
in Culture, English Posts, Life
Woman’s beauty is a concern in the dry season of India. Your feet easily get darty because of the dust on the street and it doesn’t come off, and your skin and hair drys up with no moisture in the air. Believe me, the monsoon season is the best; if you get dirty on you feet, you can just jump into a paddle so they get cleaned up just right.
So I go to beauty parlor more often than usual in the dry season. Indian beauty parlors are so amazing because they do things cheap in such high level. Indian women go to those parlors every two weeks to get everything done; hair, facial, cleanup, eyeblow, maniquire, pediqure, massages, whitening, and waxing.
One day I needed to clean myself up, so I went to my usual parlor in the evening. The madam recommended a few treatments and I negotiated the price. The beautician of mine was an aged woman around fourty five or fifty. Her skill was amazing with her massive fingers. It was passed seven thirty, and she found she can’t finish all of my treatments by the time her duty is over.
I found she kept checking the clock, and seemed like she’s in hurry, so I told her it’s ok to cut off one service. She whispered me “Okay, but tell the owner from you, otherwise she never listens to me.” I am familiar with this kind of unbreakable power hierarchey in India, so I just called the owner and said “Madam, I changed my mind, so just want to finish up after this.” The owner said “No no, don’t worry. Just relax”, and didn’t let me give up.
When I went private with the beautician, she started complaining about the owner. “How does she let customers relax in rush of closing the shop? She just wants more money, so didn’t let you go. I have a sick son in my house now. I need to go home as soon as my duty is over.” It turned to be not so relaxing for me, but kind of got more interesting. So while she was massaging moaning about her boss, I was saying like “Haan”, “Accha…”, “Right right” to hear something more.
I asked how much she gets a month. “My salary? Five thousand. Only that much. So less, isn’t it? With my experience in this business…” She said she has been a beautitian for thrity five years by now. Actually the salary is really less, if I think about a nineteen years old office boy gets 3,000 to 5,000 a month at least. But I don’t really know how to compare. I don’t really know the social structure. It’s too big if we start discussing about this kind of unfairness of employment and economy in India.
I count how many times she can get the service I get from her within her salary, and that makes me feel complex. But at the same time, her income is much better than maids who get 300 a month for clearning one flat’s full floor every morning for thirty one days. Maids live better than garbage ladies who live in a blue sheet tent in a slam. That doesn’t always mean the lower class life is worse than upper, or maybe it does. I don’t know it.
Occasionally I go to a nice restaurant with my friend, and see shiny Indian people who wear famous brands’ outfits with the rich people’s relaxed attitude. Barely, but I meet Japanese people who work for a subsidery of famous Japanese companies or government office in Bombay, and browse their luxurious life. I am impressed, but I don’t envy them so much. I imagine the beautitian doesn’t envy my life so much either. My life looks like my choise, even though I knew I wouldn’t have a choice to be richer if I wanted to. Financial situation is like a destiny we can’t control as we wish, anyway. I don’t chase things that I can’t control. I only stick to things I can control. That’s the way to survive in the rough world in any social class.
Such things are just on the surface. As you see in finely done movies of Bombay, the depth of life is total different matter from having a shiny huge kitchsen with three door refrigerator or BMW or Gucci bag. But, maybe, a blanket for spending nights on the street, gas, or water purifier matter. My imagination has a lot of limitations.
The Cultural Bias
31 Jan 2011 2 Comments
in Culture, English Posts, Work
The team Japan won in Soccer Asia Cup. I watched the last game with my Japanese and Korean colleagues at Manchester United Café Bar where our colleague’s fiancé manages and arranged a private room for the Japan x Austraia match. The game was a great introduction to the world of soccer.
Actually I didn’t even know the rule of this sport by then, not more than people kicking a ball to the opposite goal. I annoyed people asking basic questions and finally “So, who’s the next game with?” after the all high-touches of the final winning. Anyway, I think I get the point. Soccer is exciting. And I am a so-called quick national team fan now.
By the way, I recently attened a workshop my company held for middle-managers. When we were somewhere on the topic about giving a negative feedback to staff, the lecturer pointed at me and said “You should be extra careful to give a negative feedback to foreign staff, as they may take it as a bias to their nationality.”
Well, this is a tricky point. A few foreign people claim that they are biased by Indian people. Anyhow, they end up feeling isolated and become extremenly conscious of their nationality and become defensive. I believe it happens in a bad cycle. Maybe someone told her something wrong which made her suspicious about people, and her suspition made people take distance from her, and so on.
I am not bothered by such bias. I imagine I could look like typical Japanese; critical, negative, conservative, too formal, or workaholic more than I actually am. But once people get to know me, they would have a different opinion about me. An encounter is dynamic. I don’t care about people who don’t get it anyway. Also, being Japanese is a great part of my job role, so I don’t expect people to see me equally as a “citizen of universe” or something. I’d like people to respect me as a nice Japanese woman.
I bet Indian people struggle with such bias in international business much more, as there’s a typical image that Indians take their time. But that depends on the context. A train may arrive late, but people do work hard and quickly here. My Indian bosses trained me to “Do it quick. Think fast and be efficient.” They are fast and aggressive in business. As long as the speed of execution matters, I don’t think Indian business culture is in a slow side.
The funny thing is that I am sometimes biased by Japanese people when I talk about Indian culture in this way. Some people say that I have lost the “spirit of Japan” in the long stay in India, that I become mentally semi-Indian so I can no longer point out the issues of Indian culture, blah, blah, blah. They are always someone who is fighting to the culture difference and flustrated by the uncontrollability. I hate it. The point is not finding a difference and removing it. The point is finding the commonness and expanding it.
That’s how I found this bias related topic a bit tricky. After all, when we have to do something productive together, there’s no space to take such a small thing so seriously. We have many other things to do. People may say I am just less sensitive. But it is just a simple practice.
If I Was A Student －Kanheri Caves
16 Jan 2011 2 Comments
in Culture, English Posts
I finally visited Sanjay Gandhi National Park in Borivari last weekend. My friend who is a genious researcher planned the day and we took a bus in early morning (it was 8.30 but still it was super eary for me). It was a great park even I regret not visiting before, especially Kanheri Caves is must see if you’ll ever visit Bombay.
Kanheri is the remains of an old Buddhism temple slash school. The temple is made by digging out the mountain. Buddha’s statues and monuments are everywhere. There are places of worship, class rooms for kids with benches. Kids who were sent to learn about Buddha slept in the small rooms besides their classroom.
They didn’t use a book for learning, but instead, the life of Buddha was drawn full of the walls of the classroom using colorful paints. The Buddhist slash teachers used to teach kids pointing the pictures on the wall. I wish I could have taken one lecture in the classroom. But I wonder how the teachers gave an examination for kids as all the answers were on the wall so kids could cheat very easily.
Many women also came to study in this temple from all over the world. They tended to stay for four months, given a room to stay. The rooms are empty now, but we can imagine it wasn’t so bad. There were even washing machines made by stones near the living area. I would have loved to stay one of the rooms as a student if I was born in the period. I would have been the first exchanged student as a girl from Far East and became friends of many Indian women and priest and spent an unforgettable days of my life.
As you can see in the photos, the caves were full of school kids led by teachers for social study. Actually ten or twenty buses from schools are parked and kids were running out of the buses and playing like monkeys. It was a crazy number of kids. I’ve never seen so many kids at once. OK, no one doubts that India is still in its population growth. The power is massive. The amount is intimidating. I can’t imagine a Japan to be empowered in near future if I compare with these Indian kids.
After being impressed by the Cave, we visited Lion and Tiger Safari. It’s also one of the popular spot in this park. Safari Park is supposed to be a park which has a miniture Wild Life…. It’s difficult to describe. I won’t tell the detail here because I want you to expect and enjoy without knowing too much. If you’ll ever visit Kanheri Caves, please visit this Safari toghether. You’ll see the dynamism of India, in many senses.
Giving Or Not Giving
09 Jan 2011 4 Comments
in Culture, English Posts, Life Tags: beggers, Bombay, featured-English, mumbai
Beggars can be one of Bombay specialties. In 15 minutes walk to my office, I see two or three beggars, or sometimes a group of children running to me showing hands. You may feel very uncomfortable being begged and confused in how to decide your attitude if you are new in Bombay. In fact, I am still confused even after almost four years being begged by more than one hundred beggars.
Each person has a different strategy or a policy. Some people willingly give for poor. That behavior is natural to them. They may be caring, educated to be gentle to poor, or have a thought or religious reason for that. I don’t totally understand each person’s depth or direction of thoughts, but it looks simple that you give money if someone who is in trouble asks and there’s a coin in your pocket. I wish I could behave as simple as this, but I guess I don’t have enough mind-base to do that so naturally.
On the other hand, quite many people say that we shouldn’t give any money because it means to support Bombay Mafias and encourage them to make more and more beggars for their business. I don’t need to explain this as it’s already the world famous story since Slamdog$Millionaire. Others who are against giving money to beggars say that the money encourages the parents of the kids not to make them go to school but beg more and more. Either logic, they believe that not giving money contributes to the social welfare and better world without poor beggars in the end.
I don’t entirely agree with these opinions, because there’s no reason to believe that not giving money’s an effective way to reduce the number of beggars in Bombay. It sounds as idealistic as some people say “Let’s all countries give up nuclear weapons at once” or “Let’s everyone not go to the war so a war never be able to occur” which never happen in this imperfect world. Besides, the situation is more personal; a beggar who has no food and money for today is in front of you. Not giving money might help a potential beggar after 100 years, but the old woman in front of me would die tomorrow. So I doubt. It’s more understandable if they say that they don’t want to give money to a stranger.
Some foreigners have this cute solution that they carry a pack of candies to give to beggar kids instead of money. A few of my friends and tourists I know use this strategy so they don’t encourage any bad adults behind while they can fill the kids’ hunger at least. It eases their feeling also doing a good deed. This strategy works more in suburban where life is less competitive. City people’s rate of alms-giving is higher than suburban, so sometimes beggars get angry when you give so small money or snacks there.
One of strategies that I came up with is market-based principle, “Give and Take,” in short. I want a fair trade. Money has to be a compensation to something worth it. So I pay when I like what I get. For example, I don’t like people make a crying face and tell unhappy story and make me pay to get rid of my guilt being wealthier than them. So I don’t pay. But I may pay if the beggar plays a drum and dances when I was too bored in the train. I don’t pay for kids who come to clean the floor of trains below me because the government should pay for him instead of me. Or I would pay for blind singers because they have handicap. This logic is supposed to help the beggar to market in a big picture, but if you think a little deeper, this is not a perfect principle, either. This is just another self-deceiving thought.
It’s a tough question; give or not give. Giving is guilty, not giving is also guilty. My personal answer is no answer, because I am sure that I start finding positive reasons to support the correctness of my principle in order to feel easier. I should be feeling uncomfortable and confused forever. I should feel guilty when I don’t give, and feel regret when I give every time, so at least I won’t stop thinking. Therefore my policy is not having a logic or a fixed coping strategy, but staying in this question as long as possible trying this and that.
I give money when I have coins. I don’t give even when I have. I fling off beggar kids like an ice woman. I sometimes buy an extra vada pao when I was buying one for me and a beggar comes and says “For me, too,” but I may not do the same next time. I don’t know. Only I know is the power and force of begging is really strong that can easily confuse my feeling and thoughts and never allow me to ignore even if I pretend ignoring that is poking my arm.
The One Handred Eighth Ring of the Bell
02 Jan 2011 Leave a Comment
in Culture, English Posts, Life Tags: bhuddism, Japanese new year, joyanokane, new year's eve, the bell
In Buddhism, we believe that people are born with 108 earthly desires. All the temple bells are stick 108 times in the night of New Year’s Eve to remove the desires to make people be fresh clean men to be ready for the New Year. Every year, the national channel broadcasts the sound of bells from the famous Buddhist temples on TV. A NHK caster says in his ceremonious voice, “Listen, now the very last 108th bell is ringing out the old year…,” Gwoooon. “….Happy new year, everyone. Now the new year, 2010, is started.”
My family called me at 8:15 p.m. in India time, which is 15 minutes before the New Year in Japan. My mother and I chatted a little to update about each other and cerebrated our health and happiness being opposite sides of the world. She passed the phone to my father, and I chatted with him a little, too. “Oh, wait a sec, do you wanna hear the sound of the bells of New Year’s Eve?” he said and turned up the TV volume, and we both went silent. My father said, “Just be patient and listen.” The good voice of NHK announcer introduced the historic temple which is honored to stick the 108th bell of the year. Gwoooooooon. Happy New Year, everyone.
I missed the Japanese New Year four times after I moved to India. New Year shopping, the fight between my mother and father about who is working harder than who in the home cleaning, sukiyaki with Year-end Grand Song Festival of NHK on TV, the sound of bells, the chilled air while going to the shrine in the midnight, village people passing saying “Happy New Year” in low, fresh voice, family gatherings with a lot of liquors and a lot of lot of food in the New Year’s days, and visiting cemetery to say hello to the dead family members. Everything was the same every year, and that reminded me I was connected to something warm and big which won’t change forever even when my little life had a little disasters or crisis now and then.
It may be Diwali, Ramadan, or Christmas for others. For me, it is New Year’s holiday. The landscape of New Year’s days with the laughter and the cold fresh air of January built my personality – the good side of my personality – which casts anchor of my spilit at a good and warm place all the time. I think that good part is the very bottom of my spilit and nothing dark is under that. So I am not at all afraid of falling to the dark place, because I know I won’t end up there at last.
I felt very lonely at the moment of the New Year being away from family and the familiar places. But I think in this way – it’s just a matter of phisics not being there. It’s not a matter of spilit or love, obviously, because they are filled up fine. Some people don’t have the anchor like I have, unfortunatelly. I have it so surely that I can go far and far from home feeling safe and connected to something important whenever. I guess I am too lucky.
I heard the only last 108th ring of the bell of New Year’s Eve, so technically I have brought the other 107 earthy desires with me into 2011. That’s fine. I am not seeking the spilitual state of not-wanting or knowing-enough AT ALL. I wish, I hope, and I desire a lot of things in 2011, social or antisocial, realistic or unrealistc, phisical or spilitual, just like the last year. Let me be.
I am sorry that I never send New Year cards to anyone (writing on New Year cards is too big task to me), but I wish you a Happy New Year to you from the bottom of my heart (where there’s nothing dark, bad, or sarcastic there; don’t worry.)
English Personality
18 Nov 2010 4 Comments
in Culture, English Posts
Some Japanese people believe that they have a slight different personality when they speak in English as a second language. While Japanese have so many levels of formal lines, English doesn’t have so much level of politeness. Also, Japanese culture has this communication style that you don’t really state your clear opinion in public, which is supposed to be considered as a way to show their skills of adjustment and to show politeness. So I kind of understand that some people can feel freer when they speak in English.
I don’t personally experience it in that way. My personality must not be so different to people in both English and Japanese, except I can’t clack jokes so well in English. I can’t tell a lie so well in English, either, because of the lack of vocabulary. Therefore I may look or sound a little more serious and straightforward than I am actually in my native language.
For example, when I have to say something strong to someone, I usually mix it up with a sarcastic tone or a funny tone to avoid offending the listener directly. But I can’t do that level of communication in English so well. And my speaking speed is not as fast as I want. Vocabulary and speed is always the problem.
The problems are not only mine. Working in the international office environment, I see other Japanese staff speaking in both English and Japanese. Some people look much cleverer and quicker in Japanese, because they can’t quickly make sentences in English when they are given a chance to talk and even if they have a clear idea to present. Some people are much funnier in Japanese, because there’s a very small but essential lack when it’s translated into English.
But I guess these problems are just the skills. I don’t feel a strong relation between a language and a personality by heart.
I don’t see the Indian people facing the same problem; in most of the cases, English is not technically their “Second Language.” I often just quietly listen to people speaking in Hindi or Marathi, and they seem not consciously switch one language to another all the time. For example, one anti is speaking about her niece, like “He was a very talented scientist, but one day he realized that doing science doesn’t make so much money.” At the “…but, one day…,” she suddenly switches English to Marathi. And then, again, she speaks in English from the next sentence, and again switches into Marathi in the middle. This can’t happen to us as in people who studied English as a second language.
I have been reading this book about Indian identity and English language. The book is likely to tell that Indian people still have the identity crisis because of the colonial language. But from a foreigner’s point of view, Indian people have a very vivid and unique character, whatever language they are speaking or writing. So I don’t think it’s a big concern. Maybe we should start shooting Bollywood movies in English so we can prove that Bollywood in English is as Bollywood as Bollywood in Hindi.
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