English Lessons

By Jennifer Lee, ALT, Hiroshima, 2001-03

“Be sure to bring your togs.”
Bring my what?
I hit rewind on my answering machine again and replayed Andy’s message for the third time. Did he say “togs”? What are togs? Maybe he said towel. Be sure to bring your towel.
I punched in Andy’s number and got his voicemail. Rather than leave a message, I hung up and shrugged.
Andy, Glen, Amanda and I were going to the onsen. When Amanda heard a few days earlier that I had yet to experience a Japanese bathhouse, she was appalled.
“You’ve lived here for three months and you haven’t been to an onsen?!” she exclaimed. Amanda and Andy were second year JET participants, but Glen and I were newbies.
It was soon decided that we’d be making a trip to a local onsen, up in the hills of Hatsukaichi, our suburban town.
I stuffed a fluffy bath towel into my bag and hurried outside to meet my friends at the bus stop.
Once on the bus, I tapped Andy on the shoulder. “Hey, I got your message. What were you telling me to bring?”
“Your togs,” he replied, matter-of-factly. “Did you not bring your togs?”
Amanda playfully punched Andy on the shoulder. “Americans don’t call them ‘togs,’” she said, making a face. “In the States, they’re bathing suits. Right, Jen?”
“Uh, yeah,” I said. “I’ve never heard the word togs before.”
But I had bigger issues at the moment.
“Wait – I need a swim suit for the onsen? I didn’t bring one!”
“Relax, you don’t need it,” Andy said, laughing. “I thought they might have a swimming pool area separate from the onsen, but you don’t need it for the onsen.”
Whew.
Forget about my Japanese language barriers in Japan – apparently I had enough trouble with (British and Kiwi) English.
I lived in a town with several other JETs and English teachers. Among my colleagues from the UK, New Zealand, Australia and Canada, I was the only American. One of our favorite pastimes – aside from mimicking each other’s funny accents – quickly became discussing the differences between our native tongues.
You don’t wear tennis shoes to run – you wear trainers. Soccer is football – and the field is a pitch. Professional business suits are described as smart. You don’t get drunk, but you sure are pissed. Is something real, official and thorough? Then it’s proper, of course. Chocolate is chocolate, but chocolate isn’t candy. Rent a car and leave it in the parking lot? Hire one and put it in the car park. Have it all figured out? Nope, but plans are sorted. Fries are chips, and chips are crisps. And you don’t like a guy but you do fancy that bloke.
No wonder I didn’t bring a swim suit.
The JET Program made me a part of an international community that, five years later, is still very near and dear to me. Certainly, our discussions also focused on less trivial issues (school systems, government, world events) but I have very fond memories of exchanging colloquial English – for English.
Andy is planning to visit me in LA in a few weeks. I just got an email from him and it sounds like he’s sorted his accommodation and itinerary.
I can’t wait to give him a proper introduction to the city.



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