• 13 . 06 . 05
  • In which I am able to find my keys using only the power of Japanese, but then fail to order dinner in the same tongue.

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The daily frustrations of not being able to communicate easily mean that even the smallest victories are immensely satisfying and cause a hugely disproportionate amount of self-congratulation. Thus, I was quite ridiculously happy this morning when, having retraced my steps of the other night, I was able to find my keys in a Coco Ichiban curry restaurant using only Japanese to explain the situation and describe them to the staff.

The irony of course is that, though I was able to retrieve my keys, the night I actually ate at the curry shop, I still wasn’t able to perform the substantially easier task of ordering a meal correctly. Even so, it’s nice to know that I can fix some problems and that, even if I never become fluent, it won’t have been a complete waste of time! And in retrospect, it wouldn’t have really felt like I’d lived here at all if I hadn’t lost something.

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