32. A Box of Chocolates

In my last blog entry, I talked about special people I have met over the years who introduced me to their respective cultures (see blog entry 31). Each person became a close friend and led me into a new and seductive world through personal and positive initial contact. I soon developed a strong desire to learn languages in order to dive deeper into the cultures of Japan, Thailand, Bulgaria and Turkey, testing myself on the streets of each country by trying to communicate in the local vernacular – and having a great time doing so!

But friends, food and frolic are not the only reasons I undertake the study of a new language. There are a range of motivations involved, including scholarships and exchange programs. I learned very quickly that, if I wanted to travel to a place where I could use a language, I would either have to save every cent I earned or qualify for scholarships. In the latter case, I managed to get accepted for two study stints in Quebec (see blog entry 5), as well as for one in China (see blog entry 23). In both cases, although I did not yet have close friends from these regions, I was familiar with the local language thanks to classroom studies and wanted to test my communication skills in the real world.

I became involved with other tongues “by accident”. Two languages that I had no background in, but was unexpectedly introduced to, were Cree (see blog entry 15) and Malaysian. In the latter case, I hit the jackpot on a government study program at the end of my last year in high school (see blog entry 10). The Canadian government was implementing a program called Canada World Youth, or Jeunesse Canada Monde in French, to send young people overseas on developmental education projects. The lucky participants spent three months training in Canada, six months in the host country, and a final three months back in Canada with their international counterparts. There were five potential destinations – Cameroon, Tunisia, Yugoslavia, Malaysia and Mexico. I chose the last country since I had studied some Spanish in high school and thought that, if I made friends “south of the border”, the chance to visit them would be more likely than with the other countries. As it turned out, I was assigned to Malaysia, a country that I couldn’t even pinpoint on a map!

A total of eighty participants went to Malaysia. Divided into groups of ten, we spent a frantic year being shuffled from state to state, paraded before the public with the media in attendance as we planted rice, climbed up mountains, and learned folk dances. In our group, only two participants really made a concerted effort to learn the local language, bahasa Malaysia. As a result, each time the group was moved to a new state, we were singled out and billeted with families who spoke mainly bahasa Malaysia. While the others stayed in cities and communicated mostly in English, the two of us inevitably ended up in rural settings, which meant our language skills took off. We became quite conversant and were even interviewed in bahasa Malaysia on national TV at the end of our stint. Not bad considering that we had only lived in the country for six months. As for me, I became enamored with a place that I didn’t even know existed a year earlier and still dream of going back, picking up where I left off linguistically and culturally. This motivation grew from direct interaction with the people and culture.

But such stories are not always so positive. I was recently contacted by a friend who is organizing an exchange program between students from his Japanese university and counterparts in Thailand. Although he has gone to great lengths to offer language training both online and in classes with a native Thai speaker, none of this year’s fourteen participants seem interested. His students assume that, when they arrive in Thailand, someone will speak English or maybe even Japanese. To me, this smacks of naivety, or worse, arrogance. These students are satisfied with being typical tourists, not willing to take a little time to learn the language of the country they will soon visit. From my perspective, this is a truly sad condition. Hopefully direct contact with the people and culture will motivate them to make the effort to study some Thai. We shall see.

I, too, am running an overseas program this winter. Two weeks ago, eight of my students began studying Korean online at www.sulantra.com followed by twelve hours of classroom instruction over ten days using a teaching approach similar to the one they have experienced online. Tomorrow we finish our classroom sessions and the next day everyone will board a plane for Korea where we will spend five days testing our language skills on the streets of Seoul, Taejeon and Gongju. The last place is a smaller city where we assume most people will speak only Korean. This is where the participants will undertake “solo tests”, including shopping for souvenirs in a marketplace, ordering meals at noodle stalls, purchasing train tickets back to Seoul. In other words, typical activities when you are on the road.

And as they interact with the locals to complete their test tasks, I hope that my students will become energized. Although the weather will be freezing with snow on the ground, I am confident that everyone will have great stories to tell their families and friends back home. I also hope that they will develop a strong desire to learn more language in order to return to Korea in the future. I want them to have an exciting time communicating and continue to develop their skills in Korean. I want this trip to be memorable and motivating just as my trip to Malaysia was for me so many years ago.

It may seem like a farfetched dream, but I am optimistic. I have been running courses similar to this one for over thirty years and, although each program has its own hurdles and headaches, inevitably things work out. Most participants return home looking for ways to continue studying the new language they have recently reveled in. Still others want to tackle a different language, to open the door on new, energizing experiences. With just a few words and phrases under your belt, the world becomes a box of chocolates with an infinite number of flavors all waiting to be enjoyed. If that first taste is a pleasant one, it becomes very hard to put the lid back on the box. There is no turning back.

Many of the students going to Korea will be heading abroad for the first time. Through direct experience they will form their own opinions and understanding of a country so close and yet so far. I hope this first “taste” will leave them craving for more. More travel, more experiences, more language. My next posting will describe the training approach I have developed for my classes. The posting after that will most likely be from the countryside outside of Seoul.

Care for a chocolate, anyone?

(If you are really a fool for language, check out my language learning website at http://en.sulantra.com/ with courses from and to English, Spanish, Chinese, Japanese, Turkish, Bulgarian, Thai, German, Korean and Italian!)

31. Motivation Revisited – Friends and Food

In the last posting on this blog, my Italian friend, Loris, talked about his trials and tribulations on the road to learning Japanese (see blog entry 30). Why does anyone go to so much trouble to learn a new language? For immigrants to another country, the main reason is survival. But for many of us, the reasons may be less obvious.

I was once asked by a professor to explain why I get so excited when I try learning a new language. What gets me wired? I started by listing the languages I had had some contact with and soon discovered that my own motivations covered a wide range. In my earliest postings I talked about the influence of my parents on my desire to learn French (see blog entry 1) and, later, the rapport with a special teacher in high school which started me on the road to tackling German (see blog entry 2). For each language I encounter, it seems like a different fuse is lit, but often the motivating factor comes down to people.

One primary motivation for me to learn a new language is some form of positive initial contact with someone from a country or region where the language is spoken. Interacting with a friendly face – often while partaking of tasty delicacies from the person’s country (see blog entry 11) – piques my curiosity and soon I am fantasizing about a trip to some far off land.

In my second year of university, I shared a house with a group of students, including a young woman, Masako, from Japan. Each day we took turns cooking dinner and, after several months, I came to realize that Masako’s meals were the best. Furthermore, not only was I becoming familiar with her great cooking, but I was also picking up the table manners of the country I would eventually call home. I knew that I would get to Masako’s homeland – I just didn’t realize how long I would stay!

After arriving in Japan, I worked for several institutions, including a national university on the island of Shikoku. There were graduate students from many parts of the world and one day I arrived at school to find two young Thai men, Suwat and Somsak, waiting at my office door. They were writing their graduate theses in English and needed the help of a native speaker to make sure that their complex ideas regarding the world of Economics came across correctly. What I lacked in Economics background I made up for with my mother tongue and soon we were conducting weekly sessions in order for them to meet their dissertation deadlines. Working together for two years, we became good friends, sharing stories over wonderful Thai dishes they prepared and declared weren’t half as delicious as the food “back home”. That was over twenty years ago and we are still friends. And I swear that their meals were just as delicious as anything I have had in Bangkok, a place I have visited many times since our first encounter.

Eventually I left Shikoku and moved up to the Tokyo area. My jobs included a position at a small college near the base of Mount Fuji, which had a program for students from Bulgaria. It was there that I taught and learned a great deal from some young women from Sofia. Each month we would get together in my home and prepare a Bulgarian meal with ingredients that I had tracked down especially for the occasion. Filo dough, feta cheese, grape leaves – all hard to come by in Japan, but a home-cooked dinner was involved so I found the ingredients! It has been over ten years since my path crossed those of Emma and Tina but, again, we have remained close friends. I have visited their homeland many times and still delight in sharing wonderful dishes while reminiscing over their student days in Japan. And I have learned enough basic Bulgarian to maneuver on the streets of Sofia. Well, at least I can get to the nearest ice cream parlor!

I am also in love with Turkey. Once again, my contact was through my stomach. I visited a Turkish restaurant with my mother in the small city where she lives on Vancouver Island and was immediately charmed by the food and delightful staff. Could all Turks be this friendly? As it turns out, my answer is a resounding “Yes!”

A few years later, I met a young Turkish man, Özgür, at a conference in Thailand. He was outgoing and talked as much as me – and we seemed to become friends instantly! That was about ten years ago and, and thanks to Özgür, I now count Istanbul – and Turkish cuisine – among my favorites in the world.

I have described my connection to four languages via friends and food, but it is not just my heart and stomach that gets me motivated. My head is also part of the equation. When visiting a foreign country, I find it extremely frustrating not to be able to communicate. Of course I can rely on the generosity of my friends to get around, see the sights and partake of the local culture. But, being a long-term resident of Japan who speaks Japanese, I know what it is like to be on the other end. It’s called “babysitting” and can become quite exhausting. When visitors to Japan arrive and can say a simple “Hello.” or “Thank you.” in Japanese it works wonders. But this is only the first step to truly communicating.

Phrases like “How do you say this?” or “Once more, please.” in the local vernacular can go a long way when you are abroad, and they are not that difficult to pick up. As for language for specific activities, such as ordering in a restaurant or bargaining in a marketplace, this is also finite and not that big a challenge if you set your mind to it. Of course, it requires some studying, ideally a little each day. But if you have the mindset that when you get to where you are going everyone will appreciate your efforts, the reality is that you will be able to get around on your own and the visit will be much more memorable. I know because this is what I have been doing for years.

It may sound selfish, but I have created my language training website, www.sulantra.com, mainly for my own language learning pleasure. I don’t want to waste time memorizing disconnected lists of words or repeating aloud monotonous grammar tables. I have suffered through too many language classes based on this approach and do not have the energy for it anymore. I have some idea of what I want to do when I head overseas and know what language I will need to help me do it. I just need a little help getting prepared. This is the thinking which underlies my website.

Some readers of this blog have asked why I chose to include Japanese, Turkish, Thai and Bulgarian among the first languages uploaded to www.sulantra.com. The answer lies above with each of the wonderful people who introduced me to their culture - Masako, Suwat, Somsak, Emma, Tina and Özgür. And there are other languages and other people. Perhaps I will mention them in later postings.

In the meantime, friends and food are not my only reasons to study a new language. I will talk about some other motivations in my next blog.

(If you are really a fool for languages, check out my language learning website, http://en.sulantra.com/, with courses from and to English, Spanish, Chinese, Japanese, Turkish, Bulgarian, Thai, German , Korean and Italian!)

30. My Japanese Language Learning Journey

We have reached our 30th entry on FFL (the abbreviation everyone now seems to be using to refer to this site) and, as promised, I have asked another “language fool” to be my guest blogger. This time around it’s Loris, a good friend from Rome, who describes his adventures on the road to learning Japanese. 

 My Japanese Language Learning Journey

by Loris

Learning a foreign language has always been one of my major interests. The story dates back to my early childhood. I think it all started when I was a tiny Anglo-Saxon-looking kid. Blue eyes, ice-blonde hair – not so common for an Italian. I can’t remember this for obvious reasons, but my mother often tells me of an episode when I was still in a baby carriage and some American tourists approached me cooing in English. I think it all started there.

If asked why I became so interested in learning different ways to communicate, I would probably answer because of my need to know. Well, rather than “knowing” itself, I should say “understanding”, which implies the capability of gathering pieces of information from the outside, elaborating them inside your mind, letting them pop in your heart and, finally, turning them into malleable bricks in the brain. “Malleable”? Yes, because there is nothing worse than sticking forever to the same principles. At least that is how I feel.

And now comes the choice of which language to learn. I was not particularly lucky during my school years: no foreign language was offered in elementary school, while English was the only available tongue other than Italian in junior high school and, once again, throughout senior high school. Far from complaining – I actually really like English – I have always been interested in what is different or, better yet, exotic. For example, when I was 14 I woke up one day and thought it would be nice to learn some Icelandic. Unfortunately, my studies did not progress very far, but it was definitely fun!

At that time, I dabbled in many different languages, all for short periods. I was growing up, just entering “teenager-hood” and felt like I was in search of my soul. “Which rhythm suits me? What language should I speak to feel satisfied?” I was looking for the “good vibe”, that shiver down my spine. I liked my native language and always will, but I felt that it was not enough. 

In this experimental period, going from Icelandic to French, from Finnish to German, passing through Norwegian, Spanish and Arabic, I finally met Japanese. This was not totally by accident since I actually had quite an interest in Japan having started reading mangas, or Japanese comics, from the age of 9. That was the first time I told my mother: “Mom, I wanna go to Japan!” Twelve years later my dream would come true.

My first formal introduction to the Japanese language was thanks to a course I found on the Internet. I got to learn some really basic grammar and kanji, or Chinese characters, together with the Japanese phonetic alphabets, hiragana and katakana. That was it but it was enough to stimulate my interest. Soon I had downloaded some applications to my computer for learning kanji, their meanings and various pronunciations. I could basically recognize – if not properly write – some 150 kanji at the age of 15. I immediately realized that THIS was what I was looking for. The rhythm of the language struck the right note in me, the visual aspect satisfied my artistic sense, and I felt pleasure in learning more and more.

This individual study period lasted about one year with long breaks in between. Then I had the chance to take part in a real Japanese evening class organized in my town with a real teacher from Japan. Was she the first Japanese I met? I think so. What I clearly remember is that thrill every Tuesday when it was time to go to class, and the feeling of pure joy when coming back home after the lesson I would look at the notes containing the new words I had just learnt. Unfortunately, the language course was discontinued after one year and for assorted reasons I had to drop my individual study of Japanese for some time.

After graduating from High School, it was time to choose a university and, more importantly, a direction for my future career, job and profession. I did not think twice, I knew already I would choose Japanese Studies. When I first entered university I had the feeling that I would be able to coast for a while because of my past study background – but how wrong I was! In four short weeks all of my grammar knowledge had been “used up” and I was on the same level as all of the other students, except for kanji. Compared to the complete beginners around me, I could understand a lot more characters.

As for my studies, the more I learned, the more complicated things became. “That is normal”, I said to myself. But the truth is that, from a Westerner’s point of view, learning a language such as Japanese really does take time. This was probably the first time I began to question whether I would be capable of learning to communicate well in Japanese someday. But I believe a strong will can survive any storm, no matter how tough it gets. I integrated flashcards and notebooks filled with ideograms into my study regimen. I attached little papers to every piece of furniture in my house. Each day I seemed to come up with a new approach to master the language. I was determined.

As graduation approached, I was growing discouraged by the amount of hurdles I met on my path to fluency. As a result, I decided to delay taking more courses. Instead, I would just make my dream come true by visiting Japan and then go straight into the workforce back home afterwards. Again, I was so wrong. During my time in Japan, I realized how much I actually wanted to continue until the end of this adventure and achieve some remarkable goals in Japan itself. I came back to Italy with a stronger will than ever, and I changed my plans for the future, entering a Master’s degree program in Japanese Studies. 

I studied hard for almost 2 years, engaging both body and soul, but still I felt that I could not properly understand everyday conversations or, for that matter, silly TV programs. Once again, I felt like saying, “Screw it all!” But just when I thought everything was lost, I met a Japanese who would become my partner. This event gave me strength to hold on and keep on learning in order to better understand everything that comes with having a Japanese mate. It was no longer just a question of studying the language. Since Japan entered my life so intimately, learning the language has become an even greater pleasure in everyday life. Although I am continuously meeting new hurdles during my learning process, I approach them more as new adventures. And I feel I have enough knowledge now to put the language I do not understand into a logical frame of reference, elaborating in my mind until the new slips into the box of “Already Learnt” items. It comes without saying my Japanese has improved a lot.

On the academic side, after two years of studying for my Master’s degree, I am about to embark on another exciting experience as an exchange student in Japan for a whole year. This is nothing less than what I have always dreamt about and it is going to definitely be amazing! Or rather, should I say this is how it was meant to be? We shall see. 

(If you are really a fool for languages, check out my language learning website, http://en.sulantra.com/, with courses from and to English, Spanish, Chinese, Japanese, Turkish, Bulgarian, Thai, German , Korean and Italian!)

29. Quick and Easy - Keywording

In blog entries 27 and 28, I talked about a communication strategy model with three stages and specific language. But communication strategies do not need to be complex. Often they are based on common sense and can be surprisingly simple.

After coming to Japan, I began to seriously investigate my own use of communication strategies as I tried to get my point across in Japanese. Whenever a communication breakdown occurred, I would step back, analyze what went wrong then try a new approach. If it worked, I would subsequently create classroom activities and materials so that I could introduce and develop the successful strategy with my students. I will explain one incident and the simple strategy which resulted from it, as well as include some classroom materials with this blog posting.

After my first year of stumbling about in Japanese, I was slowly developing my language skills for specific contexts. The town of Tamano where I lived was very small and there were no language schools that I could turn to for structured lessons. As an alternative, I hit upon the idea of studying assorted traditional arts in Japanese. Lessons included cooking, woodcarving and tea ceremony. My tastes were varied but the main reason for these eclectic choices was that the instructors would accept me. In my early days when I could barely string two words together, each “sensei”, or teacher, went to great pains to make me feel at ease but it was obviously a challenge for everyone. As the months passed, however, I slowly but surely began to collect words and phrases for maneuvering in a kitchen or tea room.

On the other hand, when faced with a new context I was often at a loss for words. And if there was an element of stress involved, as there usually is for people trying to communicate in a language that is not their own, then the few words I did have at my disposal evaporated as a cold sweat broke out on my brow. Yet I refused to give up and persevered to the amusement (and sometimes irritation) of the locals.

One day, I was waiting to buy a train ticket at Tamano’s small local station. This was the terminus and there was only one train every hour that went to the “big city” of Okayama. Ticket vending machines had not been invented yet and several people stood patiently in line in front of the ticket window. One by one they were served by the agent then headed quickly to the platform to board the waiting train. There were about five minutes left before it pulled out and the mood was tense. Japanese trains leave on time and everyone needed to buy a ticket and board before the train left.

As I stood awaiting my turn, I listened very carefully to the people in front of me trying to catch the phrases they used to buy their tickets. I had the key words – “next train”, “return ticket”, “one person”, “Okayama”– but was still mentally sorting out how to string them all together into a polite phrase when my turn came. Sucking in my breath, I slowly, even painfully began to produce a polished request for a ticket word by carefully enunciated word. “Would... you mind... giving me...?”I was so desperate to sound polite that I ceased to realize those behind me were also desperate – to make their train!

Suddenly, through the fog of my phrases I heard a man mutter angrily, “Konna baka na gaijin! Shinjiraranai!”, which roughly translates as, “Stupid bloody foreigner. I don’t believe it!” I was mortified. My desperate effort to produce a refined phrase had resulted in some very disgruntled locals. Quickly, I blurted out, “Okayama. Round trip. One person.” and tossed my money at the ticket agent. He hurriedly passed back the necessary ticket along with my change. Pocketing both, I scurried to the platform.

Once I had taken my seat (and noticed with relief that those standing in line behind me had also made the train), I began to dissect what had happened. It had been foolish of me to try and produce a perfect, polished phrase when the “broken” language I had blurted out was more than sufficient for the job at hand. Just as importantly, the abbreviated language was what I would have used in a similar situation in English.

This problematic desire to produce the “perfect sentence” is something I have seen frequently over the years among students in my classes. I watch as they mentally sort out the arrangement of words, painstakingly positioning them in their mind’s eye, taking what seems like forever. Worst of all, by the time they do finally utter that carefully planned phrase, the conversation has either moved on to a new topic or, in a one-on-one exchange, died completely. I call this painfully slow mental arrangement of words “overthink”. Maybe it is specific to the Japanese learner’s psyche but I suspect not. After all, I did it myself so many years ago at the Tamano train station.

So how do you get around this problem? Awareness comes first. In class, I point out that a perfectly structured sentence produced VERY slowly ends up being incomprehensible. A quickly spoken phrase in “broken English” is often much easier to understand as long as the key words are there. For this reason, I call the strategy “Keywording”. Second, I tell my traumatic ticket buying tale, pointing out that it can irritate the locals if you don’t speed things up. Finally, I point out that learners themselves use such “broken” phrases in their mother tongue (e.g. when buying a cinema ticket). Why should they expect their second language to be held to a higher, “perfect” standard?

After this spiel, I subject my students to various activities which require they

give information to others within a set time, for example, directions to their favorite coffee shop in 30 seconds. Given this VERY short time frame, there is obvious pressure. I start with students whom I know can pull it off and serve as a model for the rest of the class. Sometimes the atmosphere gets a little frantic with the “talker” blurting key words out in staccato while “listeners” clarify, hurriedly take notes or draw pictures. But this pandemonium doesn’t bother me. My goal is to have students realize that they can get their message across with key words and without “overthink”. If you feel adventurous, check out this link for materials to use in your own classes : Keywording Classroom Materials

Yes, my students are under stress when I conduct “keywording” activities in class but, if they can cope and communicate in class, they are better prepared to face the real world. Pressure is what non-native speakers often face as they try to get their point across in a foreign tongue. Ask any clerk at a station ticket window – but wait until the train has pulled out!

(If you are really a fool for languages, check out my language learning website, http://en.sulantra.com/, with courses from and to English, Spanish, Chinese, Japanese, Turkish, Bulgarian, Thai, German , Korean and Italian!)

28. Changing Learner Behavior – The Proof

In blog entry 27, I described an awful episode where one of my students at Mitsui Engineering and Shipbuilding (MES) tried to bluff his way through a contract negotiation in English, nodding his consent while understanding practically nothing. As a result, he ended up trapped between an irate foreign agent and his furious boss – and got me thinking that learners should study more than just language. I was convinced that they also needed behavioral training with clear models to help them negotiate breakdowns in communication.

I came up with a “Control” model for attacking the problem head on when you do not understand. It consisted of three stages: STOP the other speaker; clarify until you do UNDERSTAND, for example, by asking for repetition or meaning; and, finally, CHECK to confirm that you have understood correctly.

The “Control” model seemed an easy one for my students to wrap their heads around; however, the approach was radical at the time. None of the major textbooks on the market approached language training in such an aggressive manner. As a result, I spent considerable energy preparing my own materials to introduce then reinforce the “Control” model in my lessons. Students were encouraged to interrupt and clarify me, as well as each other, when they had trouble comprehending. After some initial hesitance, many began to do so with a vengeance.

After three years, I moved from MES to teach part-time at several institutions, including a national university. I continued to train my students in “Control” and other behavioral models resulting in complaints from some university professors. It seems that learners trained in my classes were considered “rude” since they kept interrupting and asking questions when they didn’t understand. I said that I would talk with my students. I did telling them that they should always clarify when they did not comprehend the droning of their professors planted at the blackboard (referred to hereabouts as “chalk-and-talk”)

Soon I was seriously analyzing my attempts to communicate in Japanese and most of the training models I came up with were derived from my own speech behavior. As my files of classroom materials grew, I began sharing ideas with other teachers, particularly at meetings of the Japan Association of Language Teachers (JALT), giving numerous workshops on training learners in communication strategies. Sometimes I would come up against skeptics who complained that my approach wasn’t “legitimate” since it was not based on existing methodologies and/or research. Others argued that I was turning my students into clarifying “monsters”.

At times it was frustrating to watch colleagues with questionable teaching skills being offered fulltime positions because they had advanced degrees. Some would stand at the front of the classroom and pontificate while their students read comic books or slept at the back of the room, yet they got on with their careers. Without a Masters degree, I was relegated to part-time teaching limbo. Finally, I decided to bite the bullet and headed to the UK to work on a MA in Applied Linguistics.

Why the UK? Frankly, as a Canadian I fell between the cracks in the Japanese job market. Some universities wanted British professors since they were “traditional”, which apparently was prestigious; others chose Americans who were considered more contemporary in sound and style. Canucks were stereotyped as friendly barbarians who took canoes to class and cooked on campfires. At least this was the impression I got when I looked into positions at universities in the area where I lived. I suspected that, armed with a degree from the UK, I could get a foot in the door with the “British” schools, while my accent was Yankee enough to satisfy the institutions fixated with the United States.

In 1986, I headed off to Essex University intending to research the potential for changing the behavior of non-natives as they tried to communicate in English. After some groveling to find a professor to act as my advisor, I succeeded in receiving approval for my research. I turned out to be the only student to do original research among my classmates.

For my research subjects, I used twenty Japanese students studying at Essex University and for my training model I used “Control” since both were familiar territory. I set up three stages for my experiments. In the first stage, all of the students were asked to listen to a story and put a series of graphics in order. The visuals were impossible to arrange logically without clarifying. Most of the students listened, looked confused then arranged the photos in what they hoped was the correct sequence. None succeeded.

In the second phase, half of the students received an hour of “Control” training, while the other half did not, then everyone performed a variation of the original exercise. As suspected, those with training clarified and put the visuals in the correct order, while those without training continued to fumble about, guessing or giving up.

The third and final stage was much more interesting. I waited three months then had my flatmate, Jeremy, who was majoring in Law, assist me in conducting a second series of interviews. Ten of the original participants were selected at random, five trained in “Control”, five without training. Jeremy contacted them to ask if they would be willing to participate in a survey to determine how much the average Japanese knew about their legal system. All agreed, each choosing a time and place to meet for the interview.

The results were fascinating. Those with “Control” training were more assertive, clarifying and answering Jeremy’s questions logically once they understood. Furthermore, they had “mutated” and were asking questions not contained in the original model, as well as using more sophisticated strategies, such as paraphrasing what they thought questions meant. They had become more assertive in their efforts to understand and be understood.

As for the group without “Control” training, they were stuck in the same rut they had been in three months earlier, pretending to understand questions then hazarding an answer, often with amusing results. One young woman with a British boyfriend would “contemplate” each of Jeremy’s questions by saying “Yeah, that’s a cool question. Gee, it’s hard to say. I guess so…” She said this for every question, including those which required more than a “yes” or “no” answer! Listening to her bluff, I wondered how in the world she communicated with her boyfriend.

Another subject had graduated with a Law degree from a prestigious Japanese university and was doing a second degree in Law at Essex. In theory, he should have had no problem with Jeremy’s questions but turned out to be the most challenged. For example, when asked if prostitution was legal in Japan, he paused for several seconds then stated emphatically, “Yes, we have a constitution.” Ouch!

After completing my research, I was approached not only by the Japanese students who had not received training, but also by other foreign students who were in their classes. The grapevine was alive and well, and everyone wanted to learn “that Control stuff”. As a result, I gave an open demonstration attended by about sixty students and professors which I recorded, edited and submitted with my graduation thesis. I hope to upload it on my blog soon.

I left Essex University with my MA in hand, satisfied that I had done solid research and could now respond to critics of my training approach with empirical evidence. I was also completely broke, the fate of many scholars who go overseas and pay substantially more for the privilege of studying at a foreign institution. Thus, I boarded a plane back to Japan literally hours after being notified that I would receive my degree, ready to go to work and pay off my debts.

 

Subsequently, I published academic papers about the “Control” model and my research at Essex. For those who are seriously into academic jargon and references, check out these links: Measuring Receptive Communication Strategies and Control An Independent Learning Model. For language teachers who want to try “Control” training in their own classes, check these links for handouts to use in your classes Control Classroom Handout and The Active Learner. As for everyone else, suffice to say that you can change your behavior and communicate more effectively in a foreign language with “Control”. The concepts have been built into my website, www.sulantra.com, to help you do this. Definitely check it out, too!

(If you are really a fool for languages, check out my language learning website, http://en.sulantra.com/, with courses from and to English, Spanish, Chinese, Japanese, Turkish, Bulgarian, Thai, German , Korean and Italian!)

27. An Assertive Mindset – Control

At the end of my studies at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver, I left Canada for what I thought was a one-year work stint in Japan. That was about thirty-five years ago. As mentioned in blog entry 11, in 1978 I passed a job interview with Mitsui Engineering and Shipbuilding (MES) by stuffing my face with sushi in Los Angeles and soon found myself in Tamano, a small company town on Japan’s Inland Sea. Being the only foreigner on staff at the shipyard, I was forever being asked to help with a range of tasks most of which I was not really qualified for, such as proofreading (think rewriting) technical specifications and reports.

I still remember my first MES report, a mish-mash of engineering jargon about rust and pitting on a gear tooth face. The initial page took me six hours to rewrite – and there were twenty-one pages to go! But I eventually became comfortable with the idiosyncrasies of English written by Japanese and the pages of technical mumbo jumbo gradually became decipherable.

As for the town of Tamano, it was small and even with my horrible sense of direction I could soon find my way around. The simplest of daily activities often proved an exotic learning experience and I felt constantly stimulated. At work, I developed a routine of consultations with engineers about their documents sandwiched between my classes and put in long days doing what I hoped was a good job. I made every effort to be a model MES employee.

At weekends, I dove into company life spending time with colleagues and students going on picnics in the surrounding hills, visiting hot springs, or picking mandarin oranges on nearby islands. Although big cities like Tokyo or Osaka had their attractions, to my way of thinking I had made the right choice by heading off the beaten track to experience the “real” Japan in Tamano. I was very pleased with my new life.

Then one horrible day in my second month harsh reality reared its ugly head. I was sitting at my desk in the Personnel Section surrounded by about fifty other co-workers. We had just finished lunch and, as I was slipping my chopsticks back into their storage case, the doors burst open and a very angry foreigner glared around the room then headed straight for me. He slammed his fist on my desk and, in a thick British accent shouted, “What the hell are you teaching these people!?” I was mortified.

It seems the man represented an insurance firm and had just spent several hours with one of the engineers from my classes negotiating a contract to be used for a ship built in the Tamano yards. My student had nodded his agreement to each of the terms suggested by the British agent who then entered “final” versions on his electric typewriter (desktop computers didn’t exist yet). After several hours of proceeding in this manner, the agent thought that he had completed the contract and submitted it to my student’s section chief – who hit the roof and refused to sign the document!

It seems that my student had agreed to each contract term while not understanding what the British agent was saying. He had nodded, desperately hoping to grasp the essence of what was being talked about later in the discussion. He hadn’t and the end result was a contract that Mitsui considered unacceptable. My student was trapped between an irate insurance agent and a furious boss, and I was suffering the collateral damage at my desk. How had things gone so horribly wrong?

To be honest, I myself was having trouble with the British agent’s northern accent. There was no way that my student could have understood this man’s speech without clarifying and yet my student had taken no action. He had the level of language necessary to ask for repetitions or definitions but was paralyzed to do so.

As the agent ranted at my desk, I had an epiphany. What my students needed as much as language was behavioral training. With a clear model based on efficient behavior they might develop the confidence to tackle their communication problems head on rather than bluffing, pretending to understand when they didn’t. In Canada, I had some vague ideas about what my students needed to do in order to understand and be understood, but now I had a specific communication breakdown to analyze. In doing so, I came up with a concrete behavioral model with stages and language, which I called “Control”.

The “Control” model is made up of the following three stages:

First, learners must recognize when they do not understand and STOP the other speaker. All they need to do is ask “Excuse me?” or “Pardon?” in a polite, firm manner. But this may be easier said than done. Interrupting may feel rude; however, bluffing when you do not understand can be much more offensive as my MES student discovered.

Second, learners need to identify why they do not UNDERSTAND and take remedial action. For example, if the other person is talking too fast, “More slowly, please.” should address the problem. Maybe there is one word that doesn’t make sense. Fortunately for English learners, key words are usually stressed and asking “What does that mean?” will elicit an explanation, as well as provide a sense of the learners’ comprehension level for the other person. As for challenging accents like that of the insurance agent, learners can ask “How do you spell that?” Words might be recognized if they are written down, particularly technical terms. My MES students knew the jargon for their field; they just hadn’t heard these words pronounced by someone from Manchester or Mobile.

Finally, when they think they grasp the meaning, learners should confirm their understanding, or CHECK, by asking “You mean...?” or “Are you saying...?” followed by a definition in their own words – or gestures if language is limited.

Over time I became convinced that the “Control” model was what my MES students truly needed to survive in the workplace. The only problem was that no textbooks I knew of emphasized this so I had to develop my own activities and materials to teach the “Control” model. Several years later I conducted research with Japanese students at Essex University in the UK to determine whether such behavioral training influenced their ability to communicate. I will describe this research in my next blog posting. Suffice to say my studies showed that you could change behavior and help learners communicate more effectively.

I have also taken “Control” online and built components of the model into my language learning website, www.sulantra.com. I know from personal experience that this training model works. Whenever I begin to study a new language, from the outset I learn the key language necessary for “Control”. Even at a basic level, I can maneuver in a conversation.

I have had students who read dictionaries and memorize grammar tables in their free time. But if they cannot comfortably apply this language in the real world, if they allow themselves to be intimidated by the target language when they try to communicate, where is the value? My MES student was humiliated in the workplace by his lack of confidence and inability to clarify. Training with the “Control” model helps protect learners from being “bludgeoned” verbally as they strive to use a new language.

Power to the learner!

(If you are really a fool for languages, check out my language learning website, http://en.sulantra.com/, with courses from and to English, Spanish, Chinese, Japanese, Turkish, Bulgarian, Thai, German , Korean and Italian!)