I think I'm turning Japanese, I really think so.
Yesterday I went out to Ichikawa again for dance class. I think that's my favourite place for it. There are beginners there, so I can start right at the beginning - being scolded for not lifting my feet or sitting enough. Of course that also means I dance for three or four hours. I was very tired by the time I got home, but I'm not really that sore today - at least, considerably less sore than I was after my first two lessons (I ended up not going last Friday).
Anyway, dance class is always interesting, even if my mind was wandering a lot yesterday. I think I've improved a little, but it's still a struggle. And then there are the other things, not exactly related to the act of dancing itself...
At one point Sensei got up to work with us individually. She grabbed the student to my right by the chunni wrapped around her waist in order to show her how her center should be moving with the step. They repeated it a couple times, Sensei holding the student by her waist, then she came to me. My problem on this particular step is what she calls "promotion." Basically, to sum up all my problems, I don't accent anything enough. My actions are a little too loose, my center of gravity indistinct, and in this particular step, my body doesn't move all at once. The result is that the energy dissipates. I understand these things of course, in my head, but my body just won't do it. So she stood behind me and actually, physically *pushed* me, trying to get me to feel the way I should be "promoting" my entire body through space.
And then on one of the trips "back" (the step keeps returning to center), I came close to bumping into her. I suddenly had this horrible image of crashing into my tiny Sensei and sending her sprawling. I felt so huge and monstrous standing so close to her, unusually conscious of my monstrous thighs, my monstrous hips, my monstrous shoulders. Not monstrous in a bad way necessarily just... ridiculously large. Obviously what's ridiculous is that I should feel ridiculously large, but I suddenly found myself able to empathize with Stefanie and Aileen's positions (pun intended). It was really... illuminating to have that "glimpse" into their everyday. I know people here are small, but I normally don't consider them much different from my size, probably because no one ever gets as physically close as Sensei was. Whenever I re-realize how tall I am, I get so disoriented. I'm just so used to being the shorter side of average, I don't even think about it.
Later, after learning the first part (meartham? correct me, Deepa) of a Jathiswaram (raga mallika, mishram), Sensei asked what I knew about abhinaya (facial expressions). I think she asked if I knew a shabdam, but I didn't really understand her Japanese with the Indian terms mixed in (my brain doesn't know if it should be listening for Japanese or Telugu or English or what) so I said, "I don't understand," which I think she took to mean "I have no idea what you're talking about." So she made us sit down in a semi-circle in front of her and proceeded to explain to me the different aspects of dance. This was a little annoying, as I know things *that* basic, if not the theory or an actual shabdam (at least, I don't think I do), but I was able to endure because the whole thing was suddenly just *so funny* to me. Here I was, at a community gym in Tokyo, having Classical Indian dance explained to me in Japanese. Then we worked on this story about Krishna and she translated the Telugu song and explained the mudras in Japanese. I mean, of course she would use Japanese; it makes just as much sense as me learning from Rathna Auntie in English, but... On one hand I was impatient to say, "Yes, I know that gesture means 'time'" and "Yes, I know that means she has 'lotus eyes,'" but on the other I was just too amused. It was so surreal.
After we went over the first part of the story a couple times, hands only, she made each of us do it individually. She corrected each of the other student's expressions, explaining and re-explaining what they should be saying with their hands and faces. If I remember correctly, she didn't have much along those lines to say to me, just adjustments of hand positions and such. And then she said,
"We have stories like this too, here in Japan, but Indian culture, you know, it's very different from Japanese. When people think of India, they think of red and yellow and orange and green, bright colours. Japan is grey. Grey and black and white and brown. Supposedly, from 1 to 10, Japanese people will only say 1 through 5, and then say 'You know what I mean?' expecting you to guess the rest of it. But Indian culture is different, don't you think? Maybe American culture is more like Indian culture. You share your opinions and say what you really feel, right?"
And then she asked me what I thought about Japanese culture. I told her that before coming here, I'd even heard of the Japanese phenomenon of Honne and Tatemae. The other students laughed at that.
She smiled and continued, "So maybe for us, for people raised in this culture, it's harder for us to understand this dance, to make this leap and say things so plainly with our faces. It's something we have to work at and really struggle with on the inside before we can begin to do it on the outside."
Amazing that she was voicing, and somewhat answering, everything I'd wondered the first time I sat in a lesson at Ichikawa.
"You seem a little like that too," she said, referring to my shy reservedness. Umm, well yeah. I'm in a strange country among strange people. I have no idea what might offend people, and I don't want them to hate me and the country/people I represent.
I gave a little laugh and said, "I'm like this in India too. I don't know the language or what I should or shouldn't do. So I don't say anything." It's how I am in any new environment, not just "foreign." I try to understand what's going on around me first. Is that so bad? How could I explain that with my friends I'm silly and lazy and girly and touchy-feely. Why explain that?
"Ah yes. Language..." she repeated.
And then she asked something that didn't seem related at all,
"Indrany-san, what do you like about Japanese culture?"
Oh my god, for the life of me I had no idea what to say. Can you believe it? How terrible of me! When put on the spot like that, I couldn't think of one thing I genuinely, deep-down-inside *love* about Japanese culture (except maybe the food or arts, but I didn't think that's what she was looking for). So I fell back on my fail-safes,
"Everyone's so kind and polite, and they're always willing to help me." But in my mind I was thinking, "Yeah, and they constantly make assumptions about me and stare at me and have outdated ideas about feminine behaviour and beauty and..." Oh god I felt like such a horrible person.
They all sat expectantly, like I should say more, but I was at a loss. I really had absolutely *no idea* what to say. Should I have gone off into how I like that the trains are on time and the bus drivers wear gloves and the conbini are so convenient? Instead I said,
"Oh this is so embarrassing..."
The others laughed, and one student said, "That really is like a Japanese person, isn't it?"
So, adding to the time that Ueno-san asked "Are you Japanese?" as a compliment to my Japanese-speaking ability, this is the second time I've been called Japanese. No, no, wait. Third. Darren's mom called me Japanese when I saw her at the juggling show.
Oi. Not sure how I feel about this.
But I think this entry would be good for the next "Student Life Report" I have to submit to the Foundation (except maybe all the stuff about not being able to think of something I really love about Japan).
Anyway, dance class is always interesting, even if my mind was wandering a lot yesterday. I think I've improved a little, but it's still a struggle. And then there are the other things, not exactly related to the act of dancing itself...
At one point Sensei got up to work with us individually. She grabbed the student to my right by the chunni wrapped around her waist in order to show her how her center should be moving with the step. They repeated it a couple times, Sensei holding the student by her waist, then she came to me. My problem on this particular step is what she calls "promotion." Basically, to sum up all my problems, I don't accent anything enough. My actions are a little too loose, my center of gravity indistinct, and in this particular step, my body doesn't move all at once. The result is that the energy dissipates. I understand these things of course, in my head, but my body just won't do it. So she stood behind me and actually, physically *pushed* me, trying to get me to feel the way I should be "promoting" my entire body through space.
And then on one of the trips "back" (the step keeps returning to center), I came close to bumping into her. I suddenly had this horrible image of crashing into my tiny Sensei and sending her sprawling. I felt so huge and monstrous standing so close to her, unusually conscious of my monstrous thighs, my monstrous hips, my monstrous shoulders. Not monstrous in a bad way necessarily just... ridiculously large. Obviously what's ridiculous is that I should feel ridiculously large, but I suddenly found myself able to empathize with Stefanie and Aileen's positions (pun intended). It was really... illuminating to have that "glimpse" into their everyday. I know people here are small, but I normally don't consider them much different from my size, probably because no one ever gets as physically close as Sensei was. Whenever I re-realize how tall I am, I get so disoriented. I'm just so used to being the shorter side of average, I don't even think about it.
Later, after learning the first part (meartham? correct me, Deepa) of a Jathiswaram (raga mallika, mishram), Sensei asked what I knew about abhinaya (facial expressions). I think she asked if I knew a shabdam, but I didn't really understand her Japanese with the Indian terms mixed in (my brain doesn't know if it should be listening for Japanese or Telugu or English or what) so I said, "I don't understand," which I think she took to mean "I have no idea what you're talking about." So she made us sit down in a semi-circle in front of her and proceeded to explain to me the different aspects of dance. This was a little annoying, as I know things *that* basic, if not the theory or an actual shabdam (at least, I don't think I do), but I was able to endure because the whole thing was suddenly just *so funny* to me. Here I was, at a community gym in Tokyo, having Classical Indian dance explained to me in Japanese. Then we worked on this story about Krishna and she translated the Telugu song and explained the mudras in Japanese. I mean, of course she would use Japanese; it makes just as much sense as me learning from Rathna Auntie in English, but... On one hand I was impatient to say, "Yes, I know that gesture means 'time'" and "Yes, I know that means she has 'lotus eyes,'" but on the other I was just too amused. It was so surreal.
After we went over the first part of the story a couple times, hands only, she made each of us do it individually. She corrected each of the other student's expressions, explaining and re-explaining what they should be saying with their hands and faces. If I remember correctly, she didn't have much along those lines to say to me, just adjustments of hand positions and such. And then she said,
"We have stories like this too, here in Japan, but Indian culture, you know, it's very different from Japanese. When people think of India, they think of red and yellow and orange and green, bright colours. Japan is grey. Grey and black and white and brown. Supposedly, from 1 to 10, Japanese people will only say 1 through 5, and then say 'You know what I mean?' expecting you to guess the rest of it. But Indian culture is different, don't you think? Maybe American culture is more like Indian culture. You share your opinions and say what you really feel, right?"
And then she asked me what I thought about Japanese culture. I told her that before coming here, I'd even heard of the Japanese phenomenon of Honne and Tatemae. The other students laughed at that.
She smiled and continued, "So maybe for us, for people raised in this culture, it's harder for us to understand this dance, to make this leap and say things so plainly with our faces. It's something we have to work at and really struggle with on the inside before we can begin to do it on the outside."
Amazing that she was voicing, and somewhat answering, everything I'd wondered the first time I sat in a lesson at Ichikawa.
"You seem a little like that too," she said, referring to my shy reservedness. Umm, well yeah. I'm in a strange country among strange people. I have no idea what might offend people, and I don't want them to hate me and the country/people I represent.
I gave a little laugh and said, "I'm like this in India too. I don't know the language or what I should or shouldn't do. So I don't say anything." It's how I am in any new environment, not just "foreign." I try to understand what's going on around me first. Is that so bad? How could I explain that with my friends I'm silly and lazy and girly and touchy-feely. Why explain that?
"Ah yes. Language..." she repeated.
And then she asked something that didn't seem related at all,
"Indrany-san, what do you like about Japanese culture?"
Oh my god, for the life of me I had no idea what to say. Can you believe it? How terrible of me! When put on the spot like that, I couldn't think of one thing I genuinely, deep-down-inside *love* about Japanese culture (except maybe the food or arts, but I didn't think that's what she was looking for). So I fell back on my fail-safes,
"Everyone's so kind and polite, and they're always willing to help me." But in my mind I was thinking, "Yeah, and they constantly make assumptions about me and stare at me and have outdated ideas about feminine behaviour and beauty and..." Oh god I felt like such a horrible person.
They all sat expectantly, like I should say more, but I was at a loss. I really had absolutely *no idea* what to say. Should I have gone off into how I like that the trains are on time and the bus drivers wear gloves and the conbini are so convenient? Instead I said,
"Oh this is so embarrassing..."
The others laughed, and one student said, "That really is like a Japanese person, isn't it?"
So, adding to the time that Ueno-san asked "Are you Japanese?" as a compliment to my Japanese-speaking ability, this is the second time I've been called Japanese. No, no, wait. Third. Darren's mom called me Japanese when I saw her at the juggling show.
Oi. Not sure how I feel about this.
But I think this entry would be good for the next "Student Life Report" I have to submit to the Foundation (except maybe all the stuff about not being able to think of something I really love about Japan).
posted by Bibhatsu at 07:09
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home