■Pointing

I think most people were told not to point at other people when they were young. As a child, I often pointed at people and my relatives slapped down my hand. My Deaf parents never said anything about pointing so I learnt from this experience that I must not point directly in the presence of hearing people.

However, pointing is an integral part of sign language, functioning as pronoun or end-of-sentence pronoun.

Quite a few Deaf people have the experience of being hit without warning by a hearing stranger. It may happen more often to men. You are joking in sign language with Deaf friends and get punched all of a sudden. The assailant must have thought that you were laughing at him (or her) when seeing you pointing.

The mishap can develop into a criminal case, so cautious Deaf people try to avoid pointing at hearing people.

When you sign with hearing people, it sometimes happens that they suddenly turn their eyes away. You turn to see what happened and you discover that they were just looking in at the direction you pointed. In fact, you were not showing them anything but you pointed to express a pronoun or end-of-sentence pronoun.

Hearing people tend to use pointing less frequently than the Deaf when they sign. In particular, they often omit the end-of-sentence pronoun, which makes conversations difficult to follow, as you cannot know which is the subject and which is the object in their sentences.

Pointing helps to distinguish subjects from objects. For example, a 4 year-old Deaf child can differentiate between the subject and the object by pointing.
(PT=pronoun expressed by pointing)
(-pt=end-of-sentence pronoun. It is expressed phonologically linked to the previous word and it agrees with the subject of the sentence.).

A: PT1 PT3 love -pt1
B: Really?
A: Yes. PT3 PT1 love-pt3. Don't you? (Asks C)
C: ...

In the above conversation, PT1 is I and PT3 is He. We can see here that a 4 year-old child knows how to differentiate between a subject and an object by agreeing with the end-of-sentence pronoun and subject.

This conversation could be translated as follows:

A: I love C
B: Really?
A: Yes. And C loves me. Don't you?
C: ...

This is an actual conversation that took place in Tatsunoko Gakuen, a Deaf free school they are attending (the above conversation is also recorded on video). We see that Deaf children have the same kind of conversation as hearing children; I still find she is a precocious little girl though...

* Translated from the e-magazine of May 9, 2007 (# 083)

■What is a “honmamon” service?

Do you remember an NHK drama series, “Honmamon”, which started in October, 2001? Honmamon means “genuine” in Kansai dialect.

Since I use a JCB credit card, the company sends me a JCB information magazine every month. In its current issue, I found an “ear mark” article introduced in the “JCB service improvement report” section, in which JCB reports about their improved services for their customers. The improvements have been made based on customers’ comments.

The report says that they have placed an “ear icon” on thirteen JCB service desks around the country because of a comment to JCB from a customer. It goes like this. “I have a hearing-impaired person in my family and he has a lot of trouble at the customer service desk. Do you offer some special services for deaf people?”

The “ear icon” was invented by All Japan Association of Hard of Hearing People in the 1970’s. The icon is usually found on a front desk in public offices as a sign post for help for the deaf. The sign says “We communicate with hearing-impaired people by writing.”

(http://www.zennancho.or.jp/special/mimimark.html)

The JCB report also says “We communicate with hearing-impaired people by speaking clearly, showing our lips or writing down messages.”

If you lost your hearing ability after having acquired Japanese as a mother tongue, communication by writing is no problem. Or, if you are hard of hearing but can hear a little, this assures you of better communication when people are willing to speak clearly and show their lips as well. It is easy to realize that these strategies work well if you have enough Japanese language skills.

However, what if you are deaf and a native speaker of Japanese sign language? Do they work well? Hearing-impaired people’s writing skills in Japanese varies from person to person. Some can write what they want, some find it difficult to grasp the intention of what is written and others just don’t know how and what to write.

In spite of various levels of their Japanese skills, people who offer services for the deaf seem to believe that hearing-impaired people have the same ability in Japanese and that it is enough to set up an “ear mark,” speak clearly, show lips, and write down to communicate with the deaf.

These are not “honmamon” services at all.

Moreover, to my surprise, the JCB report indicates that you could find the details, such as addresses and phone numbers of those JCB offices where such services are rendered in its home page.”

“Oh, Mr. JCB, are you trying to make deaf people confirm ‘phone numbers’?”, I wondered. When I checked the home page, they provided only phone numbers, and no fax numbers or e-mail addresses.

When will they ever provide the “honmamon” services to us deaf people?

*Translated from the e-magazine of April 23, 2007 (# 082)

■“Impaired Hearing” vs. “Deaf”

The incident I’m about to describe happened some time ago, when I was on my way to Kita Kyushu in southern Japan. I usually fly with Japan Air Lines to get frequent flyer points but on this trip I had ended up with Starflyer, which was then one of the new entrants into the Japanese airline business.

(When I first heard of Star Flyer, I pictured someone frying stars. I’m not alone in mixing up “flyer” with “fryer.”*)

When I had my boarding pass issued at the Starflyer check-in counter, I saw a clerk writing down, “Excuse me madam, but your hearing . . .” In an instant I jotted down for her, “Yes, I am a Deaf person.” The clerk’s look told me it was the first time she had seen the word “Deaf” actually used. Then she pointed to one of her ears as if to say, “So your hearing’s impaired, right?”

This exchange brought it home to me that Deaf is still not a familiar word to many people.

In Japanese, some people mistake the Deaf for wax figures or elderly people, because all these words start with the sound “roh.” What is worse, the Federation of the Deaf is sometimes confused with “federation of the elderly,” “wax product association” or even “church for the elderly,” since the Japanese word for association sounds exactly the same as church.

I’m not singling out Star Flyer. It is common for all airlines to regard the Deaf as “people with impaired hearing.” They serve us while clinging on to the negative perception that the Deaf are “people with hearing difficulties.” I suppose it never occurs to them that there is a group of people whose first language is sign language.

Special assistance service pages on airline websites speak volumes for this perception: The JAL web page states that writing pads are available onboard for passengers who have difficulty hearing and speaking.

Another example: The All Nippon Airways (ANA) special assistance web page says, “Please indicate the following when booking flights: Are you accompanied by a guide dog?” They say they need to know in advance if passengers have difficulty in hearing so that they can be prepared to communicate in the event of an emergency.”

To my surprise, Star Flyer narrowly passes the test in this regard: “For passengers with a guide dog/partner dog: You may let him/her on board free of charge. Please advise us about your dog at the time of booking”.

In their references to guide dogs, the ANA and JAL pages start with “For those with hearing difficulties,” while Star Flyer begins by saying “For those with guide dogs.”

The difference means a lot more to us than it sounds.

Why can’t they use phrases like “those who communicate with sign language,” “those who use hearing aids,” or “those with guide dogs” instead of referring to customers’ hearing abilities?

There is another episode relating to air travel. At the end of check-in procedures I always hear the same phrase trotted out by airlines: “Is there anything else you need, madam?” I guess that’s one of the stock phrases listed in their customer service manuals.

So the other day, I was only joking when I said, “What services are there?” To which I received the reply: “Priority boarding, Braille magazines and so on.” Exactly as specified in their manual, I assume.

Service according to a manual is not a big deal. What matters for people in the service sector, just like for translators, is to provide appropriate services depending on the situation and on whom they’re dealing with. It’s a pity not many of them are aware of that.

*Translated from the e-magazine of April 9, 2007 (# 080)

*Since Japanese doesn’t have a katakana character (showing phonetic spelling) to represent the letter “l,” we use the character for “r” to represent the “l” sound. For instance, “fryer” and “flyer” share the same phonetic spelling in Japanese. That’s one of the reasons why Japanese people in general are not good at distinguishing “r” sounds from “l” sounds in English.

■If locked up in a restroom…

When I was visiting Manila school for the Deaf in Sweden, I was involved in a horrible predicament. To tell you the truth, I was locked up in a restroom.

I had an uneasy feeling when I was going into the restroom. But seeing Ms. Akahori, who is also Deaf, come out without any trouble, I didn’t think twice. Alas, my premonition came true.

Let me reprint what Ms. Oka wrote, since she was also with me at that time.

A Deaf Person Gets Locked Up in a Toilet (by Ms. Norie Oka)

A Deaf person got locked up in a restroom. I knew there was someone inside, but I was at a loss of what to do in order to reach the Deaf person inside. So, I asked another Deaf person, who was with us, for help.

Seeing that the person inside was desperately turning the doorknob, the person outside did the same thing from outside. This way, the person inside realizes that there is someone outside who is aware of the situation, and that there is a person locked inside. It means that help is near.

Judging from the circumstances, a Deaf teacher of the school asked first of all, “Is the person inside deaf or hearing?” Knowing that the person inside was deaf, she immediately called a janitor to open the door with a screwdriver.

After a while, the door opened. Actually, the door could have opened if pushed and turned at the same time. We could have communicated by writing if there had been an opening of about one centimeter under the door. After all, it is a school for the Deaf.

It turned out that they have been having problems with that door for some time. Good grief! The person inside has not had much luck with restrooms her entire life.

Well, that unfortunate person in the restroom was me.

That hearing person, who was with me, seemed to have realized that the person who was locked up might be me, Kimura. Without knowing what to do, since I was inside, and without letting me know that “help was soon to come”, she went to get Ms. Akahori who was chatting with a Deaf teacher. In the meanwhile I was sweating with fear (literally) thinking I might be locked in the toilet for good. I felt my heart pound quickly.

After all, Ms. Akahori is “Deaf”. She knew exactly what to do first and she turned the doorknob. When I saw the doorknob turn in front of my eyes, I genuinely felt myself come to life again. At least it was certain that someone outside knew my existence. It must have been only a few minutes, but it felt like forever to me. I wouldn’t mind dying from unavoidable disasters such as big earthquakes, plane crashes and so forth. However, I refuse to die because of an accident in a restroom.

A Deaf is a person who sees, not a person who hears. Therefore, under the circumstances where a man of eye has a hard time grasping the situation outside, a man of eye can easily figure out what to do first in order to reassure a Deaf and can act instinctively. How about a hearing person?

I gave it another thought and realized that it is important for those hearing people who want to communicate with the Deaf to expand their imagination so that they can simulate the man of eye’s world and understand their views.

For example, I believe those hearing people who “knock on the door” of the room where only the Deaf people are inside, to be with poor imagination. They can’t see that those whom they wish to communicate with, don’t hear.

The Deaf, a man of eye needs to let the hearing people know and understand how the Deaf structure their world, otherwise a man of ear will never understand a man of eye. In short, I think making efforts reciprocally is indispensable.

* Translated from the e-magazine of September 18, 2006 (# 078)

■Reikong arrived at exactly 7:00 a.m.

The students on the Sign Language (SL) interpretation course at my college have to do a great deal of homework in their second year. In the first year they may be busy preparing for exams or writing papers, but the amount of assignments seems far less than that in the second year.

In their second year, the students are often required not only to write papers but also to videotape their SL interpretations by the next class. Sometimes they have to tape them after the fourth and last period on one day and before the first period the next day, so many dormitory students come back to the college after having had dinner at the dormitory. Alternatively, a number of day students buy food at convenience stores and return to the college to study there until 10:00 p.m., when the college closes.

Well, the central character of this story is a certain second-year student, we’ll call her Reikong. One day she was given an SL interpretation videotaping assignment in the second period. Seeing her bewildered face, I asked her, “What’s the matter with you?” She answered that she doubted if she would be able to finish her homework by the following morning’s class, because she had to go and take notes for a Deaf student at a university in the city center that day and didn’t have enough time for videotaping.

Since I planned on coming to the college the next day at around 6:30 a.m. to finish off some work, I said, by way of a suggestion, “Then how about coming to the college tomorrow at seven o’clock? I’ll also be here around that time, and if you do come early, I’ll come downstairs and unlock the door for you.” The entrance door of the college is automatically locked until 8:00 a.m. and students cannot enter freely until then. Typically for a hearing person, Reikong only smiled back, and we left it at that, without having confirmed whether or not she would really come at 7:00 a.m. the next day.

If she were Deaf and had intended to come at seven, she would have reconfirmed the way to contact me or the exact time to come in order to call me downstairs and to have me open the entrance door. We may call it the Deaf way.

All the same, she came to the college exactly at 7:00 a.m. To tell the truth, I had a kind of sixth sense that she would come at 7:00 a.m., so I came to work at 6:30 a.m. as planned and put my cell phone on my desk while waiting for an E-mail from her.

I had certainly told her that I would come to the college at seven, but this is an example of a typical Deaf expression that tends to use numbers. I had said seven o’clock, but what I had really meant to say was that I would be coming in early the next morning. It didn’t matter whether she came at 6:30 a.m., when I was coming in, or at 7:30 a.m.

As she lives in an apartment near the college, I expected that she would send me an E-mail when she left home, so I had put my cell phone on the desk to be contacted by her.

However, it didn’t vibrate at all at 7:00 a.m., nor did I receive an E-mail even after seven. I was just beginning to think “She’ll come after 7:30 if she comes”, when I received an E-mail from her.

I picked up my cell phone and read her message that said, “Have you already arrived at the college, Ms. Kimura?” Without thinking twice I sent her a message back, “Yes, I have.”

First I thought that she would leave home after having confirmed that I was at the college and judged that her behavior was acceptable in Deaf culture, but as soon as I pressed the “send” button I realized something.

“Maybe she has already arrived downstairs . . .”

Having rushed down the stairs, cell phone in hand, from the fifth to the first floor—we can’t use the elevators in the college until 8:00 a.m.—as I had suspected, I found Reikong waiting in front of the entrance door, arms folded.

She told me that she had arrived at 7:00 a.m. and had been waiting for me to come down. Though I was sorry for having kept her waiting, I wondered why she hadn’t send me an E-mail to reconfirm the appointment time if she had really intended to come at 7:00 a.m.

So I asked her, “What would you have done if I hadn’t been here?” Then she said, “It can’t be helped,” and added, “I would have killed time practicing outdoors until the entrance door was opened.” I asked her, “Well, did you come at seven because I had told you to do so?” She thought for a moment and answered, “Yes, because you’d told me to come here at seven, I thought you’d be here by seven . . .”

Later I brought up the subject of this incident with my class and suggested that we have a little discussion about it.

I’m not sure that the following can really be termed a conclusion, but there are certainly differences between hearing culture and Deaf culture. In hearing culture, when a teacher tells students to come at seven, they come at seven without reconfirming the appointment time because they think that what a teacher tells you must be definite. And if the teacher is not there, they wait until he/she comes. If he/she does not come for a while, they would contact him/her. In the event that he/she doesn’t show up after having overslept or something, they simply bear with it. A few students said they would reconfirm the appointment with their teacher, but they were in the minority.

In contrast, in Deaf culture, when a teacher tells students to come at seven and they intend to do so, they reconfirm the appointment time and how to have the door unlocked, that is, to contact the teacher by sending an E-mail a little before they arrive at the college or by making contact with the teacher in case of emergency. If yet to decide, Deaf students may confirm how to get hold of their teacher when they do decide to come.

It may be necessary for both teachers and SL interpretation students to think that they might be reflecting the differences in the two cultures, when they encounter things that seem strange and defy comprehension, no matter how trivial they seem to be.

* Translated from the e-magazine of June 12, 2006 (No. 076)

■ Guessing culture and verbalizing culture

The National Rehabilitation Center for Persons with Disabilities College where I work is a six-storied building. The rooms of the Sign Language Interpretation Course are on the fifth floor. There is a copying machine under the management of the administrative office in storage room (alias copying room) on the fifth floor.

When the electric lights of the copying room burnt out, I asked my colleague Mr. I to have them replaced with new ones. He told me that I should only ask a staff member in the office on the first floor because the staff member then would request the section in charge to do so.

I used to ask Mr. I to call the staff member of the office before e-mail became wide spread. But now, I can ask the staff member directly by e-mail. Having written the mail and reread it, I started to wonder if what I came up with was all right. So I showed it Mr. I. The result was what I expected.

First sentence I wrote was as follows.
-------------------
Because two electric lights of the storage room (copying room) burnt out, would you please request the section in charge to replace them?
-------------------
After I rewrote it with Mr. I’s advice, my second sentence was as follows.
-------------------
Because two electric lights of the storage room (copying room) burnt out, please see to it.
-------------------
If I signed the second sentence to a Deaf person in JSL, he/she may respond “So what?”
In JSL, we verbalize the request in full (as in the first sentence), but in Japanese, not all words are expressed. In short, it looks more natural to leave certain things unsaid in Japanese and let the reader fill in the gap…

Indeed students of the Sign Language Interpretation Course talk to each other in JSL, but they don’t seem to express things fully. Without expressing everything, they expect me to guess what they mean. Is this the first language interference of their native tongue Japanese…..?

The other day, I told a student in charge of our e-mailing list to set up an emergency e-mailing list to send messages in one go in case of an emergency and be responsible for the e-mail addresses. Then, the student started to say to me “The usual e-mailing list too……” in JSL, but didn’t finish. Somehow my head was switched to the Japanese mode then and I guessed that the student wanted to say “Must I be in charge of the usual e-mailing list too?” Before I knew it, I signed “So what?” in JSL. The student hurriedly explained to me that she only wanted to confirm if she needed to take care of the usual e-mailing list as well.

On a different occasion, we found errors in a document and we needed to rewrite it. The senior staff member went downstairs before we confirmed who was to replace the document.

Negotiation, of a sort. This time I tried calling the office via sign language interpreter. My position was, I would like the staff member to do it, but if I had to, I would. I signed to the interpreter “With regard to the errors in the document, should I make the replacement document or would you?” But the interpreter said to him something like, “Do I make it or will you make it?”

My colleague Mr. I heard this conversation and said to me “Oh, that expression sounded as if you demanded the staff member to make the replacement document.” In Japanese, I should have left it at “With regard to the errors in the document, the replacement should be…….”

It seems that hearing people think JSL has only straightforward expressions. I suggest that hearing people understand that there are reserved expressions in JSL as well. But, as in this case, when we need tactics, the way we use our reserved JSL reflects the way JSL verbalizes things.

* Translated from the e-magazine of April 10, 2006 (# 72)

■What does it mean “to be together”

The other day I attended a party to celebrate the end of a sign language course.

In that sign language course, Japanese Sign Language (JSL) is taught by natural approach, but it is difficult for learners to use JSL without any influence from their first language. The so-called first language interference occurs, and learners try to eliminate the inter-language (the language which is interfered with, by the first language) by trial and error, being aware of the existence of the inter-language.

Getting back to the party topic, we found out that one of the students in the course was getting married in April and bombarded her with questions related to her marriage. Let's just call her Ume-san for now.

There were eleven people at the party: four Deaf people including myself and seven hearing learners including Ume-san. Of the four Deaf people, all but me were either married or divorced.

A variety of questions were thrown at her, such as “How long have you known him?”, “Where are you going on your honeymoon?”, “Where will you hold a wedding ceremony?” and “How did you get to know each other?” I don’t know why, but only Deaf people asked such questions. Even a close friend of Ume-san, who has known Ume-san since her high school days was like a dying duck in a thunderstorm uttering “Really!” when listening to what Ume-san answered.

I wondered if the above questions were too impolite to ask among hearing people who only meet each other several times a month.

Finally Ume-san was asked about the heart (?) of the matter.

Deaf: Who proposed?
Ume-san: My partner.
Deaf: Really! What were the words of his proposal?
Ume-san: He said, “I want to be together with you.”
Deaf: What? Does that mean he wants to marry you?

The above conversation was carried out in JSL, of course. A Deaf one-time divorcee watching the conversation close by said, “It doesn’t make much sense to say to be together. I’d wonder what we would do together. How do hearing people know if it was a proposal?”

The Deaf people at the party were all except me either married or one-time divorced. I asked each of them about their experiences concerning their partners’ marriage proposals. Their answers were straightforward. “Would you marry me?” However, there was one exception who said she had long forgotten because it was such a long time ago.

The proposal of marriage by the Deaf is verbalized in JSL after all, and consequently straightforward. Deaf might not have exquisite phrases of proposal as hearing people do. I suspect, however, there are perhaps bright and smart phrases of proposal in JSL. We simply don’t know them because they are not recorded.

Maybe there ought to be a website glossary of proposals in JSL (of course in movies).

* Translated from the e-magazine of March 20, 2006 (# 071)

▅Karaoke for Deaf people

I went to a bookstore after a long interval. I should be ashamed of myself, as I am a graduate student after all.

I usually order books I want through Amazon. But when I actually visit a bookstore, many titles catch my eyes, one after another. Unlike searching by Internet, it gives me visual information from all around, which arouses my intellectual curiosity.

However, I somehow automatically close my eyes at the shelf where there are books on sign language, especially the areas where there are books about sign chorus and songs.

You mustn’t take sign chorus and songs as collaboration between hearing and Deaf cultures. They are nothing but by-products of hearing culture, as long as they are signs superimposed on melody and music.

If someone says they are the true collaboration, I need to give them a good punching.

Let us suppose that they are the “collaboration of hearing and Deaf cultures”.

No Deaf people, at least I know of, take sign chorus and songs for “granted” in daily life.

For hearing people, listening to music, playing on instruments, singing songs, learning to play the music, buying records or CDs are common in daily life. For the Deaf, are seeing singing and learning sign chorus and songs, and buying sign music videos or DVDs just as common in daily life as for hearing people? I would say the answer is definitely “No”.

Deaf people seem to take part in sign chorus and songs only when those events are held by sign language clubs or deaf associations. Under these circumstances, we can hardly say that they are collaboration.

But we have one exception. That is “Deaf’s Karaoke.” Deaf’s Karaoke is different from sign songs and chorus. I’d like to define here what Deaf people sing as ‘SONG’.

Karaoke ‘SONG’ is sung among acquaintances in a closed circle as it were, and it is different from sign chorus and songs sung publicly for unspecified people. Therefore, Deaf people sing and dance with a kinds of liberation.

I think the ratio of Karaoke population among Deaf people is still much smaller compared to that of hearing people, but at least, the number of Deaf people who like Karaoke is much larger than that of those who like sign chorus and songs.

I sang Karaoke ‘SONG’ the other day for the first time in 10 years.

Every participant has his/her repertoire of ‘SONG’ and sings with sign prosody not with voice prosody, which makes it interesting for us to watch. Naturally, some are good and some poor singers. Good performers get a big applause.

One of the participants, who is hearing and called ‘Lady in Bunkyo’, sang a song along with Deaf people signing ‘SONG’, and created perfect harmony. That was the very moment that made us feel the “true collaboration between hearing and Deaf cultures”.

There are many ways for the Deaf to enjoy Karaoke, for example, we guess whose signing that person is imitating. Someone warms up by adding sign interlude to the original song and blue jokes.

I think Deaf’s Karaoke exists because it is visually enjoyable. No Deaf person tries to listen to the music and enjoy. While signing songs to auditory music isn’t interesting, signing ‘SONG’ (=Deaf’s Karaoke) to visualized music is fun. If you don’t understand these points (in other words, if you can’t get out of the hearing way of thinking and hearing people’s music), true collaboration in music between hearing and Deaf cultures will not be created.

* Translated from the e-magazine of December 27, 2005 (# 067)

■“SUMIMASEN”（Excuse me, I am sorry, etc.）

When my deaf colleague, Mr. Osonoe and I were alone in the instructors’ room, we kept the door open as usual. I sensed that someone was at the door, so I looked in that direction to find one of the employees of the college, who I know is able to communicate in sign language, a little.

While neither Mr. Osonoe nor I had noticed, the employee had been standing there saying “Sumimasen.” (Excuse me.) repeatedly in sign language, knocking at the door.

I “………?” Mr. Osonoe also blinked his eyes, perplexed.

I invited the employee into the instructors’ room, and what I really actually wanted to tell the employee was: “Since both Mr.Osonoe and I are Deaf, your act of knocking at a door would not be an effective method in order to gain our attention, and also saying Sumimasen, (Excuse me.) would not be the correct stimulus in order for us to notice your presence.”

It is said that there are eight functions in the Japanese expression, “Sumimasen.” The first function of “Sumimasen” is used when getting someone’s attention or upon entering a room, as the above. It is not meant for an apology.

When a sign language user calls somebody’s attention, first he or she waves to get attention, and then says “Sumimasen.” (Excuse me.) After eye contact, which also contains the feeling of an apology, having drawn somebody near oneself, for the sake of their convenience, and asks, “Is it all right to speak to you now?” (A Japanese speaker tends to say “Sumimiasen,” before or without the eye contact.)

The other day, since the unsuitable manner in which my younger coworker (a hearing person) asked a question, ( in the Deaf culture), I said to her, “Your question is not to the point and by the way you asked, we cannot understand what you want to say. I gave her advice on how to communicate to sign language users. Then she replied, “Sumimasen,” (I am sorry.) which was not what I expected. “Now I see. Thank you,” was what I expected.

Since I gave advice on how to ask questions to sign language users, pointing out again what went wrong, I couldn’t understand why she apologized to me, again, saying “Sumimasen.”

When my younger coworker says “Sumimasen,”(I am sorry), to me, I feel uneasy about the apology, especially when I am not even angry (for her unsuitable manner of asking questions to sign language users.). I feel as if I were really mean.

Would a Japanese speaker say “Sumimasen,” when given a caution and yet again when that person offers an advice after that? Two “sumimasens”?

In the sign language user’s case, the proper manner to receive advice, especially after being cautioned, is to offer word of gratitude.

If a sign language user gives you only a caution, without advice, you may find that he or she is quite angry with you. In such a case, the proper manner is to say “I understood and won’t let it happen again,” and add “Sumimasen.” after that. (A Japanese speaker tends to say “Sumimasen” at the beginning, while a sign language user does so at the end.)

By the way, a hearing person (a sign language learner or something) who has received some cautions from a Deaf person merely tends to say “Sumimasen,” without first saying “I understand.” like a Deaf person. So from the viewpoint of a Deaf person who has given a caution to a hearing person, I cannot avoid suspecting whether he or she really understood the meaning of the caution. I’m afraid the person who has been cautioned may not really understand, but just simply says “Sumimasen” superficially.

It is said that the expression “Sumimasen,” has an almighty function for Japanese speakers.

I looked it up in a Japanese dictionary “The Comprehensive Dictionary of the Japanese Language” (Kojien) (Iwanami Shoten; the fifth edition).

The Comprehensive Dictionary of the Japanese Language (Kojien) defines “sumimasen” as the polite form of “sumanai” (having no excuse).

That is not helpful at all: (with cold sweat).

I also looked it up in “Genius Japanese-English Dictionary,” (Taishukan Publishing Co., LTD.) which explains it as “I apologize, I beg your pardon, sorry and thank you”. I see…. The word “Sumimasen” contains two different meanings of both “I am sorry” and “Thank you”. How about that!

The “Dai-ji-sen” dictionary explains the expression “sumimasen” as used to convey an apology, gratitude, or to make a request. “I am sorry for my delay in communication.”, “Thank you for your kindness for giving me a present for early recovery.” and “Excuse me, but could you lend me the book, please.” (Partly quoted)

Sign language users never say “Sumimasen” when they express gratitude, however, sign language interpreters and learners tend to do so. When they say “Sumimasen,” to a Deaf person in sign language, they usually get a reply like “No problem and it is all right. (He or she expresses “Kamawanai. /doesn’t matter/” in sign language.)”, wondering why they are so apologetic when he or she is not angry with them at all.

Both spoken Japanese and JSL have the expression “Sumimasen” in their vocabulary. This can cause misunderstandings which can be unduly extended to misunderstanding a person’s personality, leading to a collapse of human relationships, unless we remain conscious of the difference in the usages of the expression “Sumimasen” in each respective language.

* Translated from the e-magazine of July 11, 2005 (#057)

■Is it hearing culture to be vague about time?

My parents had for some time been saying that they would like to follow the Tateyama–Kurobe Alpen Route and an opportunity came up for a family trip there. We stayed at the Tateyama Prince Hotel in the Omachi hot springs resort in Nagano. The next morning, on a fine day beneath a blue sky, we drove in high spirits to a parking lot in Ogisawa. From there we then made three connections on different forms of electric-powered transportation (trolley bus, cable car, ropeway and once again trolley bus) to climb up Mt. Tateyama.

The main thing we were looking forward to was going on a snow walking tour of Otani, Tateyama. This event is only available　for a limited period just after the route opens in spring, when it is possible to stroll between 20-meter high “snow walls” and really feel the Mt. Tateyama spring air.

Though the weather didn’t look particularly bad, we came across a handwritten signboard saying, “Departure times uncertain due to bad weather.” I wrote down “What are the chances?” and showed it to a nearby member of staff, who merely wrote back “We’re in the process of clearing the snow. To ensure visitor safety.”

All we wanted to find out was when we could start walking. Tateyama Station was getting more overcrowded by the minute as hordes of other visitors arrived and confusion reigned. So that we could judge whether it would be better to escape from inside the crowded station or perhaps to even stay there, we wanted to gather more information.

“What time can we start?” I asked another staff member. He was hesitant in writing a reply. So I asked him again. Then he wrote, “I think it’ll be eleven o’clock at the earliest. It depends on the weather.” That was fine. We had an hour until eleven o’clock. We thanked him and decided to escape from the crowded station.

We went to the Tateyama Hotel, the highest mountain resort hotel in Japan, which is right next to the station and took refuge in its tea lounge. There were very few tourists, in contrast to the crowded station. I thought we would spend a quiet time there. Unfortunately, a cup of coffee cost us 850 yen. No wonder nobody goes in.

While I had a coffee made with Kurobe Valley spring water, I went over the conversations I had had with the station staff.

Hearing people try to refrain from quoting an exact time. “Well, I am not sure of the starting time…” “Well, it depends on the weather...” etc. They have a tendency to be vague about time.

Let us consider other examples:
“Wait a moment please.” “The service is suspended.”

“Please wait for a while.”
→ How long is “a while”?
Five minutes? Ten minutes? Or thirty minutes?

“The service is suspended”
→ How long would it be “suspended”? Forever? Or for an hour?

I wonder how hearing people can allow these uncertain situations. It’s incredible. Are they just being patient?

Back to the examples from the snow walking tour in Otani, Tateyama. I wonder if hearing people are waiting in hope of being able to go for a walk after waiting for some time unless it is announced that it is “canceled,” even though they don’t know how long they will have to wait.

Most Deaf people hate to waste time. So, as a general rule, a guess or anything is fine. Concrete figures relieve our uneasiness. In extreme circumstances, they don’t even need to have any basis in fact.

If it takes an hour, we think about how to spend an hour. But, in the case of “Please wait for a while”, as we don’t know how long it takes, we can’t make good use of our time.

There will no doubt be hearing readers of this mail-magazine who may wonder what if an hour turns out to be two hours. Is it okay? Most deaf people realize that figures first quoted are probably uncertain. As a result, if the schedule changes for any reason, we’ll accept it.

Maybe, Japanese hearing people resort to expressions like “a while” and “suspended” to avoid taking responsibility for giving concrete figures? I hope the readers will enlighten me.

By the way, I drew up potential questions and answers taking place at a certain station. The train service is suspended due to heavy rain. A passenger asks a member of the station staff about the resumption of service. Hearing version is between two hearing people, and the Deaf version is between two Deaf people.

[Hypothetical conversation / Hearing version]
Passenger: At about what time will services resume?
Staff: Well, it depends on the weather….
Passenger: Oh, I see.

[Hypothetical conversation / Deaf version]
Passenger: At about what time will services resume?
Staff: Well, it depends on the weather. I don’t know for sure.
Passenger: You don’t need to be sure. What time do YOU think?
Staff: Well, I think it could start in two hours at the earliest, at the outside three. But it could possibly be earlier.
Passenger: I got it. Thank you.

Let us return to our original topic. At eleven o’clock there was still no change. I was expecting that people would move should there be some announcement. But there were no signs of movement. I was beginning to feel uneasy, so I sent my brother across to the station. According to him, the situation was still “uncertain”. I asked, “What time would they reopen?” My brother said, “Hearing people can’t give a clear answer. It’s a waste of time to ask.” Yes, indeed. I agree.

Finally, at noon, the walking started. We walked about five hundred meters, looking up at the “snow walls” standing twenty meters high on either side. We couldn’t keep our eyes open without sunglasses because of the strong reflection of the sun on the snow.

One of the staff members had written, “It’ll be eleven o’clock at the earliest.” It was an hour later than the scribbled time, but our family of four Deaf people all enjoyed a spring walk on snow-covered Mt. Tateyama, saying, “Well, after all we are an hour behind schedule.”　

The official Web site of the Tateyama –Kurobe Alpen route is at:
http://www.alpen-route.com/

* Translated from the e-magazine of May 10, 2004 (# 009)

■Folding arms

How do Japanese people interpret the behavior of folding arms?

A few years ago, when the publicity section of our institute planned to make a promotion film and the movie crew came to shoot one of our classes in the Sign Language Interpretation Course, I was there as one of the instructors. I watched the scenes from the back of the classroom folding my arms. Later our publicity person in charge made a phone call to Mr. I (my colleague in the course) and complained to him as follows:

“Ms. Kimura’s attitude was unfavorable (that is, impertinent) during the shooting. I’m afraid you’re not a good supervisor for her. ”

Mr. I remained speechless at that time, but I was also quite taken aback to hear that. There are two reasons : One is that the behavior of folding arms itself has a negative meaning (such as “impertinence”) for ordinary Japanese people, and the other is that the publicity person regarded deaf people as those that need to be supervised and tried to ask Mr. I to supervise me.

Another Deaf person told me that he had experiences of frequently being advised not to fold his arms by his homeroom teacher in his deaf school days.

In case of another Deaf person who worked at an electric equipment company, he had the following experience. He was a member of the company’s deaf volleyball team and one day while he listened to an explanation for the training by his coach with his arms folded, the coach scolded him furiously for doing so. He didn’t understand why such behavior was a problem.

Using the experience of being indirectly reprimanded by the publicity officer, I started to consider the cultural meaning of the behavior of “folding arms”, of which I was previously not aware.

For hearing Japanese people, what meaning does this behavior have?
I asked this question to hearing people around me, and they gave me their points of view as follows:
• I try not to fold my arms when I speak to others face to face.
• “Folding arms” has an impression of arrogance.
• I sometimes “fold my arms” among people I do not know, but refrain from doing so when in a specific group of people I know.
• I fold my arms when I feel like protecting myself.
• It seems natural that a superior, like a teacher, would sometimes “fold his arms”.
• If I see my subordinate or a younger person folding their arms, I’ll take him/her to be somehow impudent.
• When I see a person with “folded arms” in the lecture audience, I lose my confidence a bit for fear that he/she might be bored with my speech or think it meaningless.
• I often “fold my arms” when I don’t agree with the other’s opinion.
• In places where the hierarchical relationship is strong, I guess one might fold one’s arms to demonstrate one’s superiority to the others.
• I feel I am a nuisance when my partner folds his arms.
• The manager of volleyball or football team who is folding his arms is trustworthy (He looks full of confidence by folding his arms.)

Also, people in the service industry, such as front desk clerks of a hotel, waiters/waitresses in a restaurant, or flight attendants never fold their arms in front of the customers. From the viewpoint of the customers, they may be discouraged to approach a service person who is folding their arms.

On the other hand, I also asked Deaf people about the behavior of “folding arms”. These are their answers.
• I understand “folding arms” as representation of carefully considering the speech of others.
• When one is folding one’s arms, it means you don’t move your hands to interrupt, so I suppose it shows the attitude of listening to the other’s speech thoroughly.
• I tend to fold my arms naturally when I try to think seriously about what the other person is saying.
• I fold my arms when I have nothing to do.
• I think it best not to fold one’s arms in front of the person you respect very much. But, I sometimes do so while I am absorbed in his speech.

As mentioned above, while for hearing people “folding arms” itself could become a symbol of a hierarchical relationship, Deaf people do not always associate such an impression from the arm-folding action.

One day I observed the behavior of our students in the second school year. The students who are always folding their arms are two female CODA (i.e. children of Deaf adults). Although they have different characters, they fold their arms alike.

Behavior such as “folding arms”, which has some specific cultural meaning, changes its meaning and standards depending on the country or rather on the culture. As a result, the semantic standard of “folding arms” differs between the hearing culture and the Deaf culture.

In some aspects the two may overlap, and in other aspects they may be quite opposite.

Therefore, I think that the above-mentioned publicity person unfortunately didn’t understand the world of the Deaf at all and made a snap judgment within a scope from his/her cultural viewpoint.

The person who understands others only with his/her own cultural standard could never imagine the existence of various people within his/her society, to whom his/her cultural standard has no validity.

*Translated from the e-magazine of June 28, 2005 (# 056)

■ What Constitutes “Inconvenience”?

Though I am enrolled as a graduate student, I take one undergraduate course. The other day, I received an e-mail from my professor that his lecture would be cancelled.

(Ordinarily, such a notice is posted on the bulletin board and students are expected to see the notice on the board. Since I need to arrange sign language interpreters, he kindly took the trouble of letting me know by e-mail, for which I am grateful.)

The professor said in his e-mail, “Since I lost my voice because of my cold, I’ve cancelled today’s lecture.”

The “lecture cancellation” due to “voice loss” was quite “a big discovery” for me, because I had suspected that the lecture might be cancelled because the professor was ill, vomiting or dehydration resulting from a fever or cold.

Deaf teachers using sign language would have no difficulty giving lectures even if they had a sore throat, while hearing persons engaged in the trade of speaking in public (lecturers, interpreters or announcers) would find it devastating to work with a sore throat.

I have once heard an interpreter in sign language say, “When you have a sore throat, and if you are interpreting into Japanese, you would be very nervous about how things would turn out. If you are interpreting into sign language, you can manage, but interpreting into spoken Japanese, you are in trouble. Those remarks now made sense.

In our society, hearing people constitute an overwhelming majority. Although the environment is turning progressively barrier-free, most things were made only for hearing people. True, deaf people are obliged to lead an inconvenient life, but hearing people also have some inconveniences….

The following event occurred at a welcome and farewell reception at my former workplace. A dozen of my fellow workers (all hearing persons except myself) in the same office sat around a big table, listening to the toastmaster and other speakers, their faces turning in the same direction or looking down. I was the only person that was busy trying to understand what they were speaking about, by watching the speakers’ lips and looking at my neighbor, who was taking notes for me.

When formality turned into chatting, I noticed something striking: All participants spoke only with their few neighbors. As time passed, some people left their seats to speak with others seated in the distance.

Deaf participants could speak in sign language no matter where their counterparts were seated. Since they speak using hands, no problem arises so long as they can see other speakers though they may be seated far away. Speaking people find it difficult to speak to others in the distance, with their words drowned out by the voices and noises around them. That is why they are obliged to go to others people's seats if they really must speak with them. (They do not try to speak with someone far away in a loud voice unless they desperately need to do so.)

I have other similar examples worth mentioning. Hearing people cannot talk with those they see off once they are seated in the Shinkansen bullet train because of the train window. Nor can they speak with those in the airport departure lounge because of the glass partition or those standing on the opposite platform of the railway station. Once on board the airplane, deaf people can speak to other deaf passengers in the back seats, while hearing passengers cannot do so without going down the aisle.

I invariably get asked by newspaper and TV interviewers a stereotypical question, ”What do you find inconvenient when you cannot hear?”

They have a fixed image of the Deaf as persons without hearing, with no sound, facing the ordeal of inability to hear and speak, and forced to lead an inconvenient life.

What you find inconvenient varies according to what yardsticks you use.

And yet they continue to ask me the same old boring questions, “What trouble do you have due to inability to hear” or “What inconveniences do you have without hearing?” There must be many Deaf people like me disgusted with such banal questions.

*Translated from the e-magazine of June 6, 2005 (#053)

■A Videophone Called “Mieru Phone”

“Mieru Phone” is an excellent videophone which enables you to use it anywhere as long as you have a router, the designated camera, and a high-speed Internet connection.

The Mieru Phone is much better than the messenger system provided by many broadband companies (the messenger system has a chatting function and if you connect a camera to the computer, you can use it for chatting via motion picture).

(Major companies producing the messenger system using the motion picture are, for example, Yahoo Corporation and Microsoft Corporation.)

You can use either a large television set in the sitting room or a liquid crystal display monitor of a laptop type computer or something similar for the monitor of the “Mieru Phone.”

In my house, the Mieru Phone is connected to the television set in the living room. The Mieru Phone also has a video recording function, permitting picture messages to be sent and left when the receiver is not at home.

As I use the Mieru Phone more and more, I have found that there are various kinds of interesting things about it.

I often come home late from work. So when I want to call my parents living in Chiba, I phone them soon after 9 o’clock when the Japan Broadcasting Corporation (NHK) sign language news broadcast finishes, taking into account that my parents go to bed soon after 10 o’clock. (The NHK sign language news program broadcasts from 8:45 to 9 o’clock in the evening.)

The other day, I called my parents as usual, but their phone was set on automatic recording mode.

“Oh no! My parents should be at home at this time, but they have the phone set on the recording mode? They must have forgotten to clear the mode.”

I informed them about that by e-mail from my cellular phone, but had no reply. While I wondered and wondered why, I received a Mieru Phone call from them a little before 10 o’clock. They told me that they had intentionally set the recording mode on their phone, as they wanted to watch their favorite TV program (which they said was a popular Korean drama).

As their Mieru Phone is connected to the television, they usually make it a rule to put the phone on automatic recording mode when they want to watch their favorite TV programs to the end without being interrupted, they said.

After that, I also decided to do the same to watch my favorite TV programs without interruption, which many other Deaf people seem to do as well.

The other day, I came home earlier than usual from work. So I called my parents after arranging on the table a bowl of cooked rice and side dishes I had bought, on my way home, for dinner.

As the camera is set at the angle to catch the entire sitting room in my parents’ house, I can look at my parents who are seated on the sofa (and sometimes my younger brother, who tries to hide himself to avoid getting caught on screen) through the monitor of my television.

Then, I felt something strange, talking with my parents in sign language over dinner. That is, I felt as if the sitting room of my parents’ house and the space in my house had joined and become as one.

When another Deaf person made a Mieru Phone call to his friend, the family of his friend was having dinner. While he talked with the friend drinking alcohol, he also felt as if the space of his friend’s house and that of his house had become connected.

When a friend of mine talked on the Mieru Phone, both the person (with his family) on the other end and my friend (with his companions) were having dinner. As a ray of light flickered from the screen of the television monitor, my friend wondered and looked at the screen to find the other party trying to attract his attention with a flashlight. That happened because my friend and his companions were so absorbed in chatting only among themselves they totally forgot about the other party on the other side of the Mieru Phone. The idea to use a flashlight to attract the friend’s attention came naturally to the receiver because he is deaf and “a man of eyes.”

Let me tell you another story. Another deaf friend made a Mieru Phone call to his friend in a different part of Japan and took a photograph with the receiver. Against a screen with the receiver as the background, he used a timer of a camera and snapped!

The Mieru Phone has been in trial for commercial production only for three months. Yet, Deaf people have already made themselves master users of this new product, the Mieru Phone, in such a short period.

* Translated from the e-magazine of May 23, 2005 (#051)

■Means of Communication for the Deaf people

Since the beginning of the Heisei era (from 1989), the communication environment surrounding the Deaf people has changed dramatically.

Alexander Graham Bell (1847~1922) invented the telephone in 1876. Bell invented the telephone by chance during his research on voice transmission in order to turn deaf children into hearing children.

It seems that the invention of the telephone was a byproduct for him.

The telephone which was invented in the late 19th century drastically changed the life of hearing people. On the other hand, it did not affect the Deaf people much and they continued to use conventional means of communication for yet another hundred years.

For example, writing letters to make appointments to see people, or riding a bicycle and actually stopping by at someone’s house…

A sign of change was seen when the former Telegram & Telephone Public Corporation (the present NTT: Nippon Telegram & Telephone Corporation) began to sell a facsimile called “Mini Fax” in 1981. Three years later in 1984, the Japanese government designated “Mini Fax” as a daily necessity for people with hearing disabilities. Therefore, this extremely expensive piece of communication equipment became widely used by the Deaf people.

“Mini Fax” took two or three minutes to send a piece of paper of post card size. However, it was different from a letter or a post card in the sense that it could transmit the message to the other party instantaneously. That was the moment when the life of the Deaf people changed dramatically.

This was just after I entered university. I recall saving up money by taking a part-time job and bought “Mini Fax,” and gave it to my parents in Yamaguchi as a present.　We communicated with each other by “Mini Fax” at that time.

The functionality of the facsimile advanced and the “G3 Fax” prevailed. In 1987, the manufacturing of “Mini Fax” was discontinued. “Mini Fax” disappeared from the homes of Deaf people and “G3 Fax” took over. (Today it costs twenty or thirty thousand yen, but it cost about two hundred thousand yen in those days…)

A full-fledged cellular phone was released in 1987 when “Mini Fax” disappeared from the market. The phone weighed 900g (almost 1kg). Four years later in 1991, “MOVA-P (220g)” was released. In 1991, NTT DoCoMo was founded.

As the Internet prevailed, the e-mailing functions of the cellular phone improved.　By around 1997, a cellular phone became a necessary item in the lives of the Deaf people.

However, a written communication somehow does not satisfy the Deaf people whose first language is not spoken Japanese.

A dream of being able to communicate with a Deaf person in our first language, Sign Language, is on the verge of coming true.

Although a cellular phone which has the function of a videophone is now available on the market, it cannot keep up with the speed of Sign Language and sometimes the video images skip. Therefore, the cellular videophone has not yet gained popularity among the Deaf people.

However, a kind of videophone, “Mieru Phone” (Fuji Photo Film Co., Ltd.), which was released for trial use at the beginning of this year, can be used with TV or computers anywhere, as long as an internet connection is available. It fact, there’s almost no video image skipping. I really felt comfortable with its smooth motion pictures.

This “Mieru Phone” is expected be sold in the near future. When the manufacturer starts selling “Mieru Phone,” they need to have a marketing strategy for the general consumer market besides targeting the Deaf people and people with hearing disabilities. As long as market principles exist, “Mieru phone” will not survive the test of history just as “MESSAGE” with, wireless technology, did not.

Let me suggest, for example, first, design “Mieru Phone” specifically for Deaf people as a base model and then add some features for hearing people. I hope Fuji Photo Film Co., Ltd. would work on this.

In the next mail magazine, I will talk about various episodes regarding “Mieru Phone.”

* Translated from the e-magazine of May 16, 2005 (# 050)

■Complimenting parents on unattractive babies

In hearing culture, giving compliments to parents on their little children seems to be considered good manners no matter how unattractive the baby looks.

Not all babies are as cute as those appearing on TV commercials. There are also babies with round or wrinkled faces, who look like the champion sumo wrestler Asashio (a former ozeki, big and strong but far from handsome by general standards, meaning no offense to him or his fans).

Hearing people start their conversation with compliments such as “Oh! What a cute baby!” even in the case of these unattractive babies. By no means everyone does, but hearing people generally say “how cute!” They may just be being diplomatic though.

Instead of the term “What a cute baby,” a small number of hearing people may say: “Ah, what a round face!” or “Oh, how many months old?”

Under no circumstances do they make a slip of the tongue and say the baby “looks like a pig,” “looks like Asashio,” or “has a monkey face.”

Mr. T, a hearing person and course graduate, visited the school after a long absence. He showed a photo of his dear child to part-time Deaf teachers who happened to be around, expecting to receive words of compliment, like “how cute.” Contrary to his expectations, however, nobody complimented him on his cute baby.

When Mr. T came to see me in a separate room with the photo of his baby to show me, I failed to realize that he might have suspected that none of the Deaf teachers gave compliments to him due to Deaf culture. I personally may have said something like “Hm! Your child resembles which parent?”

Several minutes later, Mr. T came back to my room to ask me with a serious face: “Isn’t my child cute?” This abrupt question came as a surprise. He wondered why none of the Deaf teachers had praised his child. What on earth did they really say? They had said: “Hm. Is this your baby?” “Looks like his dad. Poor little child,” or “Ah, so-so (meaning not particularly cute).

Poor Mr. T. He didn’t get any complimentary words like “cute” from me either. He ended up by failing to show that he was a doting father.

A Deaf friend of my parent’s once surprised me by saying, “Dear me. How big you’ve grown! When you were a baby, you looked like a pig with a round face.”

I did look like a pig when I was a child (laughter).

Mr. T. I hope you can just think of this matter as being part of Deaf culture, and do the best you can to bring up your dear child to be sound in mind and body.

I assure you that there are Deaf people who are so considerate of hearing people that they will be sure to say that your child is cute. Finding such tactful Deaf people is the hard part.

*Translated from the e-magazine of April 19, 2004 (# 006)

■Deaf culture differences: between Osaka and Tokyo?

For the last couple of years, I've had more chances to go to Kansai and to meet Deaf people in the Kansai region.

Because they have so much pride in the Kansai dialect, the non-Deaf people in Kansai use it without hesitation at any location, including Tokyo.

The Deaf people in Kansai also use Osaka sign language wherever they go. The Osaka sign language is equivalent to the Kansai spoken language dialect, mainly used in Osaka, Kyoto, Hyogo, Nara, Shiga and so on.

Let me talk about Mr. Izumi, whose untimely death took us all by surprise. He came to Tokyo from Sakai City, Osaka. He worked actively in many places such as "Deaftopia", but before his time, he was killed in a hit and run accident in 1999. His sign language was full-on Kansai dialect. I remember him using Osaka sign language until the day he died in his early 20s. (I'm sure he is using it in heaven now.)

Concerning Japanese Deaf culture, Osaka (Kansai) Deaf culture is different from that of Tokyo in many ways. My personal observation is that in Kansai both hearing and Deaf people share the same Kansai culture, which is deeply rooted in the region.

According to Mr. Yano, a Deaf person living in Osaka, the Deaf in Tokyo are generally quieter than those in Osaka. Also, unlike Deaf people in Osaka, Tokyo people never miss the last train when they go out drinking. They don't let themselves go. They are very somber. They don't have a lark. They are very reserved. They are very straightforward and do not behave in a cheeky manner.

Whenever I go to Osaka, more than a few things remind me of the cultural difference. In Osaka, going out drinking after a lecture is quite customary. One time I was made to “bar hop” with my Kansai colleagues until 2:00 AM.

When I felt like going back to my hotel halfway through the night, it was not easy. When I asked quite nicely “Can I go back to the hotel now?”, they said, "Don’t be a party pooper. You must have time. Your hotel is just around the corner. I’ve come such a long way. You cannot go back to the hotel now." In the end, I always find myself keeping them company.

In other places, it's easier to go back to the hotel soon after giving a lecture. To do so in Kansai, you need to have some strategies up your sleeves.

Even if I stay at a hotel that has a midnight curfew, I am not safe. My fellow Deaf Kansai colleagues don't care about the curfew. They somehow try to find a way to keep me out longer, for example, by calling the hotel to delay its curfew, or to ask permission to use its back door. The curfew strategy doesn't work.

The best way is to tie up with some other Kansai Deaf people who are outside the sphere of the Osaka Deaf culture and to plan a viable strategy.

Needless to say, one must be careful not to have stereotyped images when talking about different cultures.

The same applies to this mail magazine. This is my personal story based on my own experiences. I write about what I think and what I feel. So, please keep in mind that this issue is not about all the Deaf people in Kansai.

But yet, I dare say the Deaf people in Kansai are really different from those in Tokyo (Kanto region).

* Translated from the e-magazine of April 11, 2005 (#046)

■If asked to wait, what would you do?

April is a month when new things begin. The new school year begins in preschools, primary and secondary schools and universities. Companies hold initiation ceremonies for their new employees. This is the season for many young people to start a new life in school or in society.

Our Course of Sign Language Interpretation is going to hold an entrance ceremony on April 7. The new students are first showered with Japanese Sign Language, and then learn little by little what Deaf culture is. Through exchanges with their full- and part-time Deaf teachers, they will work through issues in intercultural friction to move closer to understanding a new and different culture.

In a first-year class on Deaf culture after the winter vacation, we take time to discuss what is considered polite and impolite in Deaf culture, and where the differences lie in the behavioral patterns of Deaf and hearing cultures. One of the common topics we always talk about is “the difference between both cultures when asking someone to wait.”

Suppose Mr. A needs to see Mr. B about something. But Mr. B is speaking with Mr. C in a separate room. Mr. B, who is Mr. A’s senior by far at a school for the deaf, is a person Mr. A cannot speak to in so-called “peer sign language”.

Being in a hurry, Mr. A dares entering the room where Mr. B is, and tries to attract his attention. When someone else comes into the room, deaf people usually turn their eyes to the entrance; therefore, both Mr. B and Mr. C naturally recognize Mr. A coming in.

First, Mr. A looks at Mr. C to politely ask him to permit the interruption to speak to Mr. B, and then gazes at Mr. B to obtain permission to speak to him.

Mr. B may wish to determine if Mr. A needs a lot of time to finish his business. If not, Mr. B may start speaking with Mr. A after obtaining Mr. C’s consent to wait for a while.

However, if Mr. B feels that his conversation with Mr. C will soon end, he will ask Mr. A to wait a while and tries to finish up the conversation as soon as possible.　Meanwhile, Mr. A will wait in the same room while they finish talking.

On the contrary, when the conversation with Mr. C is expected to last longer, Mr. B will say “I will see you later because this conversation needs some time to finish” and confirm the place where Mr. A is waiting. Depending on the situation, he may ask Mr. A to come back in about ten minutes or so.

The above setting generally poses a problem to first-year students when their Deaf teachers tell them to wait. The Deaf teachers mean to say that the students should wait there, because the conversation will soon be finished, but most students go out of the room. The conversation being over, the teachers turn around and are stunned to find that the students are gone.

Then Deaf teachers might have to go looking for the missing students or wait patiently for them to come back to the room. When they ask students why they went away when told to wait, the students are lost for words to reply.

This stands to reason. In the hearing culture, it is a common practice for students to go out of the room and come back again at an appropriate moment.

Some students think it impolite to remain in the room to hear the conversation, and say that they feel it more appropriate to wait outside and come back into the room again.

Deaf teachers become accustomed to the way their students act in such a situation. They tell their students to wait, cut short their conversation and if they turn around to find the students gone, they don’t rush out looking for them but wait a while for them to come back again.

The teachers then ask the students who have come back, “I told you to wait. How come you went away?” Rolling their eyes, the students break off short, “But I thought …”. The same scene is repeated this way every year.

By the time they move up to the second year, the students are well aware how they should behave in such a situation. If told to wait, they remain in the room until their teachers finish their business. Some funny students even make “V” signs to their teachers who look back at them. Thus they draw praise from their teachers, who tell them in sign language “You passed the test!”

* Translated from the e-magazine of April 4, 2005 (#045)

■Have you gained weight?

I’ve been gaining weight recently. Though wanting to reduce it to that of seven years ago, I failed to carry out my intentions and have been gaining 1 kilogram a year. When my weight was about to reach the critical point, I received an e-mail of just two lines on my PC, as follows:

“How are you? I always enjoy your NHK Sign Language News. Harumi, you’ve gained weight, haven’t you? Well, see you!”

The person who sent me this e-mail is a Deaf lady who is quite advanced in years whom I met only once when I went to give a lecture. She seems to have taken a particular liking to me and since then has sent me a package of seasonal fruits once a year.

I sent her a return mail quickly, saying: “Yes, I am afraid so. Just watch me get thinner as I am trying so hard!”

Deaf people reading this might be wondering why I am writing all this in this e-mail magazine, because it is not unusual for them to say to someone whom they don’t know very well, “Oh, you’ve been putting on a little weight these days, haven’t you?”

But hearing people seem to refrain from saying such things unless they are quite close.

Three or four years ago, one of the new students on Sign Language Interpretation Course (a hearing person) put on a little weight after her admission, so I said to her, “Have you gained weight?”, which made her eyes grow wide and she was rendered speechless after she had gasped, “What!? No way!”

I seemed to have said something cruel to her.

It seems all right to say to a hearing person “Well, have you lost weight?” while it seems unacceptable to say to him/her “Well, have you gained weight?”

Then, is it O.K. to say “You’ve gained weight.” to all Deaf people? Not really.

This also happened a few years ago. Of all things, one of our hearing graduates asked me, “Have you gotten fat?” While her sign itself meant “GAIN-WEIGHT”, her mouthing (*) expressed “GET-FAT”. If she were a Deaf person, she would never have used such a mouthing!

To express “HAVE-YOU-GAINED-WEIGHT?” in Japanese Sign Language, it is not sufficient to add an interrogative (YES/NO question) Non-Manual Signal to the JSL expression for “GAIN-WEIGHT”.

It may be acceptable to express “GAIN-WEIGHT” with an interrogative Non-Manual Signal plus nodding backward several times.

But if you express such a sentence with your chin up or with your head fixed, a Deaf person may get angry and say “You’re so rude!” So please bear that in mind, my dear hearing readers!

(*) Mouthing
There are two types of mouth movement in sign language: One is a mouth gesture, which is sign-language specific, the other is mouthing, which is derived from spoken languages and, in the case of JSL, is mostly borrowed from spoken Japanese.
(extracted from “Mouthing in Japanese Sign Language” by Sakura Tsuruta, a resume of the 13th graduation presentation of The Course of Sign Language Interpretation at the College of the National Rehabilitation Center for Persons with Disabilities, March 2004)

*Translated from the e-magazine of April 8, 2004 (# 003)

■Short Comic Story about Deaf People (1)

【How to make the most use of hearing people】

A deaf man who had been working as a skilled worker in a small factory in a town for over 35 years, was getting on in years, his hair touched with gray, and his heart condition started to fail. One day, he had a heart attack and was taken to a hospital by ambulance. He barely escaped death, but now he was unable to do without medicine.

This medicine caused him some trouble. He had to take it every 6 hours. However, when this man was absorbed in work, he tended to forget the time. Because of this, he could not take any medicine from morning to evening. At the end of such a day, his body would be in poor condition. Each day he became more determined to take the medicine without fail.　

But it was hard for him to take the medicine on time. When he was so absorbed in his work、2 or 3 hours easily passed without his realizing it.

One Sunday, the man went to a watch shop in town and asked the clerk, “Do you have a wristwatch with a vibrating alarm?”

Reading the memo which the man had written, the clerk shook his head and wrote his answer. “In our shop, there are many wristwatches with sound alarms, but there are none with vibrating alarms.”

The man thought for a while, then he bought the wristwatch with loudest alarm and went home, carefully holding the small box containing the watch.

The next day, the man worked as usual, wearing the wristwatch which he had bought the day before.

“Beep, beep!” Suddenly a loud clamor sounded in the small local factory. Several workers were surprised by it and looked around inquisitively, trying to locate the source of the racket while the factory manager hurriedly came out of his office to check the equipment which may have been the source of the noise.

Raising his head, the man saw the manager rush here and there. He knew exactly what was happening and slowly stopped the alarm of his wristwatch.

Then he said in sign language, “Oh, it is time to take my medicine. I always forget, so I bought a wristwatch with the loudest alarm. Thanks to it, I will always be able to take my medicine on time. “

I remember hearing this short comic story from an American Deaf person. When I heard it for the first time, I rolled over laughing.

In this world, many things are designed for hearing people. A door chime, a television set, a personal computer, a telephone and so on …. There are few instruments, tools and machines made for deaf people. The vibrating type of alarm clocks, which are suitable for deaf people to use, are few and expensive.

Anyway, what we like about this story is that a Deaf person can quite effectively achieve the goal of taking medicine on time by seeing the reaction of hearing people to the alarm of his wristwatch.

By the way, there are various Deaf jokes and short comic stories about Deaf people told in many places by various means. However, most of them are told only in sign language and rarely written down. Therefore, we do not know who has the copyrights unless we investigate the sources.

This is the reconstruction of “a short comic story about Deaf people” which I heard. If any of you, the readers, have heard similar stories or read any articles, though such cases may be rare, will you please let me know? When the original source of the story becomes clear, I would like to share it with you and clarify that the copyright rests with the original work.

*Translated from the e-magazine of March 28, 2005 (# 044)

■Haven’t you grown fat? (2)

I received a message from a reader in the Kinki area which said, “When I meet someone after a long time, the first thing that catches my eye is whether he or she has grown fat or lost weight. I am quite tempted to mention that straight away. When I am careful enough, I say something like ‘You have a lot of presence.’ Similarly, I’d say to a person who used to be fat, ‘You are keeping quite fit’ in place of other greetings. But Deaf people tend to say things more straightforwardly...”.

That message reminded me of something personal. I have been a bit on the fat side since I was a little girl. A hearing lady in my neighborhood used to refer to me like this: When I was a child, she said, “You chubby little darling.” When I was a junior high or senior high school student, she would say, “Hi, Harumi, you’ve become plump.”

This is how hearing people would comment; that is the hearing culture I suppose. Since they cannot use words like “growing fat” for women, perhaps they resort to such indirect expressions as those above.

If you were speaking to men, would you say “You come to have a (good) athletic physique” or “Oh, you have an imposing figure”?

Japanese speakers (generally Japanese hearing people) prefer not to verbalize everything, while Japanese signers (generally Japanese Deaf people) prefer to verbalize.

Speaking from my personal experience, once when I met a deaf person for the first time in several months, the person had become so fat that I almost mistook him for another person. At that time, I could not say, “Haven’t you grown fat?”, which means, I was unable to verbalize it. Mmm…

Wondering how other Deaf people reacted, I mentioned this to a deaf friend of mine, saying “Mr. X became so fat that I could not say anything about it.” She said, “Me, too. As a matter of fact, Mr. X has become extremely fat.”

If someone grows fatter only a little, a Deaf person can say to him or her, “Haven’t you grown fat?” but if someone grows “extremely” fat and it is clear to anyone who sees him or her, a Deaf person seems not to be able to verbalize it.

If possible, I would also like to consider how this all connects to “sexual harassment” to ask “Haven’t you grown fat?” in sign language, which another reader pointed out.

■ Messages from readers

Readers have sent me some messages. When I find interesting ones, I may decide to share them with you in this mail magazine. The following two messages are regarding my email magazine No. 002.

Message from a hearing reader in the Kanto region

Page 9 of the Asahi Shimbun (Newspaper) on April 4 carried an article calling for participants in “The Model National Diet for Children”. Young Diet members of about 13-18 years old (children who made their own decision not to go to school or have difficulty in receiving education because their nationality is not Japanese and disabled children are particularly welcome). “The Model National Diet for Children” will be held at the National Olympics Memorial Youth Center in Yoyogi on April 23 and 24. I hope some children who are appealing to have their linguistic human rights to receive education in JSL restored will participate. Currently very few people are aware that sign language interpretation may be needed in the Diet as well.

Message from a Deaf reader in the Kinki region

I read your magazine No.002 with interest because it revealed how much or how little politicians knew about the sign language. It would be extremely interesting if we made and published a list of rankings by a political party, of the member politicians’ degree of knowledge about Deaf people and sign language. Then the politicians may start to study the issues in earnest. Reading this mail magazine, I thought the ways and means of enlightening politicians about the current situation of Deaf people needed to be seriously sought.

*Translated from the e-magazine of April 8, 2004 (#004)

■Speaking to people who don’t share or know the Deaf Culture.

Because of my rather tight schedule, I try not to take on lecture appointments. However, recently I have accepted a few requests to give presentations. In addition to such speaking engagements, I also give presentations at my graduate school, as a part of my course work.

Every time I give a lecture, I feel the difference between the reaction of the Deaf audience and that of the hearing audience.

When I talk to Deaf people, their reaction is so quick and to the point that I can’t help talking a lot adding many more interesting episodes. While I’m talking, new topics come into my mind one after another like in the “RENSO GAME” (a word association game) and my lecture goes beyond the original scope. Although my talk sometimes goes astray, I can feel a kind of satisfaction after having finished such a lecture.

Deaf audiences always react as I would expect them to, and their reaction is so easy to see, that I can talk comfortably, while feeling united with them.

On the other hand, when I am speaking to the hearing audience, it is a little different. In such a case, I do not get the same satisfaction as with the Deaf audience.

When I speak to the hearing people, there are two types of the lectures or workshops depending on the audience: one is targeted at the people who knows nothing about sign language or Deaf people, and the other is targeted at the groups of sign language learners or interpreters, and I deliver lectures mostly to the latter.

In my case, I usually choose interpreters myself, without asking the organizers to arrange them. In addition, most of the interpreters are graduates of the college where I teach.

They are graduates of the professional sign language interpreting course, and they have more knowledge of Sign Language Linguistics or the Deaf culture than other lay people. However, I ask them to read through the prepared texts and related documents beforehand though they tend to arrive at the last moment. I always take full precautions to have the best interpretation provided.

Even so, there still remains some frustration when I am not able to convey my messages to the audience. One day I discussed this issue with some of the sign interpreters and we came to the conclusion that such frustration might be partially due to the fact that speakers in sign language and hearing audience don’t share the same culture and knowledge.

For example, when I say “My parents are Deaf”, the Deaf people can easily understand my intention and its background. On the other hand, for the hearing audience, that sentence is not sufficient for them to grasp the true meaning of my statement.

So I must add considerately more information for the hearing audience as follows:
“I grew up in a home where my Deaf parents used sign language in our daily life. At that time, sign language was forbidden in schools because it was believed to be an obstacle for acquiring Japanese. So we were forced to learn Japanese orally by reading lips to grasps the content of the speech and by speaking aloud though we could never hear our own voices. As for sign language, because my parents are both Deaf and they had many Deaf visitors, I had more opportunity to see the signs of my parents’ generation than any other deaf children.”

If the other party was also Deaf, I would simply say “I grew up in a dormitory from the fifth or sixth grade to high school.”

However, if the audience was hearing, I must say, “I grew up in a dormitory from the fifth or sixth grade to high school age: At that time, sign language in the school was forbidden blah-blah-blah, but there were many older students of junior or senior high school age in the dorm, and they were permitted to some extent to use sign language, that the resident students could see more sign language in use than day students.”

Unless we keep in mind that Deaf people and hearing people do not necessarily share culture, knowledge, and experiences with each other, the true intention of my lecture would never be conveyed to the hearing audience even via proper interpretation. Interpreters are not to be blamed for such misunderstandings.

Sometimes I get advice from an experienced interpreter at the meeting before the lecture such as, “We hearing people would not be able to follow the story even though it may seem natural for the Deaf people.” This kind of remark is very enlightening for me, for even I, a researcher of the differences between the Deaf culture and the hearing culture, sometimes fail to notice such a cultural gap.

I dare say, however, how to advise Deaf people under such circumstances would be extremely difficult for an interpreter. If he or she says it in a wrong way, the Deaf person may get offended or think that the interpreter has gone beyond his or her commission.

The most difficult task for a interpreter would be causing a hearing audience to laugh with a Deaf joke or expressed in sign language: While Deaf people are bursting out with laughter, hearing people may remain sober.

It would be next to impossible for sign language interpreters to transmit the funniness or humor expressed in the narratives of the Deaf to the hearing people. So I hope the learners of sign language and people involved in Deaf education will learn to be able to laugh when it is signed without the help of interpreters.

*Translated from the e-magazine of February 28, 2005 (# 041)

■Keeping the door open or closed?

The Sign Language Interpretation course at our college (the National Rehabilitation Center for Persons with Disabilities College) is a reservoir of interesting stories about culture and language.

Hearing students are taught to become professional interpreters in sign language. Different deaf teachers come to teach classes each day on a part time basis. This floor is, in principle, the space of “No Japanese Voice.”

Here, deaf people are the majority and non-deaf people are the minority. (Actually, the hearing outnumber the deaf, but in terms of power, the dynamics change.)

The “No Japanese Voice” rule is applied only to the 2nd-year students and trainees. The 1st-year students are allowed to use Japanese vocally when communicating with non-deaf teachers.

Every spring, new students enter this institution and sometimes they show interesting behavior.

This year, there was a new student who knocked on the door of the teachers’ room, in spite of the fact that the door was open and I was the only person in the room. I almost burst out laughing at her irrelevant behavior.

Other than this kind of story, have you, the deaf readers of this magazine, noticed any other things?

The rooms for the Sign Language Interpretation course are in a 6-story building. The door of the office room on the ground floor is deliberately kept open, but the doors of other teachers’ rooms on different floors are always kept closed as are those of the Graduate School of Language and Society office where I research and the professors’ offices.

While doors are kept open without any special reasons in the deaf world, non-deaf people seem to make it a rule to keep doors closed without any special reasons.

Let me tell you of a recent event that I experienced at the office door of the Graduate School of Language and Society. The door was closed as I expected, so I wondered how I should enter the room. To my great relief, I noticed a plate saying “No Need to Knock.” Without that plate, I would have knocked on the door carefully and opened it gradually to see if anyone was in the office. After catching the eye of a member of the office staff, I would have stepped into the room, gesturing as if to ask “May I come in?”

What does a door mean for the deaf?

An open door means you can enter the room. However, when closed, it means you are not to enter at that time or that no one is there.

Even when the door is open, it does not mean that it is alright for you to step into the room directly without permission. As a rule, you should confirm whether or not you may enter. In the case that the office staff doesn’t notice you, you can go directly to the person.

The problem is in the case where more than one person is in the room.

At one time there can be a maximum of 4 teachers in the teachers’ room; 2 of them deaf and 2 of them non-deaf.

Deaf people including the part-time deaf teachers don’t hesitate to step into the teachers’ room for their own business, while hearing students cannot follow suit.

For example, if I notice a hearing student standing at the door and he or she is looking straight at a teacher inside, I cannot help them. When it comes to deaf students, they are ready to receive someone’s help, looking around casually.

Let’s get back to the point. Generally, the deaf do not knock on doors. Some deaf people may do so according to the custom of hearing people, only to be made fun of by deaf friends.

The new student I mentioned earlier will soon become accustomed to the way of the deaf community. How soon will the student know to step into the room without knocking on the door? Let’s wait and see.

*Translated from the e-magazine of May 3, 2004 (# 008)

■How to tell a visitor

I live in a condo equipped with an automatic lock system and security cameras in operation. Visitors are required to call the unit number at the entrance and ask the occupant to unlock the door.

It is common for deaf persons to know the arrival of their visitors using such things as signal lamps or a built-in flashlight bells.

I could tell when someone was at the door if a signal lamp sensor were mounted on the interphone (chime), but I am too lazy to have it installed.

When I lived in an apartment house, I had enough of sales pitches by a succession of newspaper sales agents, religious people, dry cleaners and door-to-door sales persons.
So, I couldn't stop congratulating myself on moving to a condo with an automatic lock system, thinking that I could lead a peaceful life at last.

When friends or relatives come to see me, I ask them to arrange their visiting time with me beforehand and e-mail me on my cellular phone when they arrive at the railway station. On a fine day I go out on the balcony, see that they are coming toward the condo, and then wait until the small lamp of the interphone in my living room lights up. Seeing the red lamp illuminates, I pick up the receiver, and press the button to unlock the lobby entrance door. Although the timing is bit tricky, this system has worked for me, so far.

What about packages delivered by the express delivery service? Rest assured! I have my packages delivered to a locker called "express delivery locker" in the entrance hall. The only problem with this locker service is "cool" (chilled) food delivery. It sometimes happens that such chilled food cannot be delivered to lockers. The only thing you can do then is to contact the express delivery company and have them delivered to you at a designated time or go to collect them.

My deaf parents, who recently moved to a new house in Chiba, say that among their three neighboring houses, there are two houses whose people never come out even after my parents ring their doorbells. I suppose that my parents are asked "Who is it?" over the interphone, but since they do not reply, nobody comes to the door, thinking there are some suspicious characters.

Come to think of it, the residents on the lower floor of my condo acted in a similar manner when I tried to hand them a package mistakenly delivered to me. I pressed the button of their interphone and sensed someone inside, but nobody would come out no matter how long I waited. They must have taken me as someone suspicious. I couldn't help but leave the package in front of the door with a little note saying that I am deaf. The following morning I found a note of thanks inserted in my unit door apologizing that it was very impolite of them to act that way.

If both visitors and the visited are deaf, the person visited will open the door a little bit to see who is at the door, without attempting to confirm from the inside: the deaf are "visual people."

Moving on to another subject, deaf persons are able to tell whether their visitor is deaf or hearing, depending on how the flashlight bell flashes.

When the bell flashes for a relatively short time, it is a hearing person, while it is a deaf person when the bell flashes longer. This reflects hearing and deaf cultures.

In the hearing culture, the interphone is pressed only once and short. Since it makes the chime sound ding-dong, once seems quite enough to serve the purpose. If pressed twice, the chime sounds twice, which may be noisy to the point that the visitor is considered short-tempered.

In the deaf culture, the flash light tell the coming of any visitors. Since the light only reaches a limited area, the flashlight bell is pressed longer to make sure the family catches the sight of the light without fail.

When we lived in Yamaguchi, my father and mother ran a barber and beauty shop. Opening the shop's door activated the equipment to let go the red flashlight. One flashlight being installed in our living room and another in the far end of the house, my father or mother rushed out to the shop immediately after a customer came in. Some hearing persons wondered what gimmick was equipped there. It was one of my secret pleasures to see them wondering why my parents knew of their arrival.

※Translated from the e-magazine of January 31, 2005 (# 038）