Different Versions of Talking

"I fell down two times." 

Osamu was excited to report to mama that he fell off the bicycle twice. Even more importantly, he didn't cry.

Today was boys adventure day with papa at the traffic park near downtown Sendai. We played there for three-and-a-half hours. Again.

The first time Osamu fell I ran over and he was already brushing himself off. His training-wheeled bike was on the ground and he got it back up by himself. I could tell his knee might be bruised under his pants. I scanned him for head injuries. Nothing.

I asked him if he was okay and he said, "I'm okay papa!" I asked him if his knee hurt and he paused a beat and said,"Yeah, but it's okay." The he got back on the bike and rode off.

Kenzo had a wayward visitor rest on his leg as he ate a sujiko onigiri.

Kenzo made a couple of new friends. The first boy he befriended had to leave with his family pretty quick, but the boy's parents thanked me for allowing Kenzo to play with their son. I said no problem, even though I didn't do anything.

The boy that Kenzo ended up playing with for the next couple of hours was this kid Sota-kun. I talked with his mom and dad a bit. Amazingly nice people. Sota-kun was particularly adept at catching dragonflies with his bare hands. He showed Kenzo how to do it, too. 

Our hungry mantis benefited greatly. Kenzo and his friend caught three juicy red dragonflies and I put them in the Family Mart bag that I had intended to use for trash and we took them home and that mantis ate the first one in a matter of minutes.

I had a few moments where Kenzo and his friend and I were talking and of course it's in Japanese because... we're in Japan and everyone is Japanese. I only ever speak with the boys in English. They see me speak in Japanese with people, of course, and I never ever tell them to speak to me in English. Up to now it's just an embedded expectation that when you talk to papa it's in English.

But today I got a glimpse into a new universe that we may soon be entering. Kenzo was playing with his friend and of course they were speaking Japanese. When I was participating in the conversation Kenzo was also speaking Japanese to me. I just respond in English and don't make a big deal out of it.

I had this thought that at some point, probably when he makes friends in elementary school next year, he might start to have mixed feelings, possibly even negative feelings, about his bilingualism and his identity, to the extent that a first-grader can.

Eri and I talked about it tonight. I told her I will never say something to the boys like, "English please."

At any rate, for the time being, Kenzo can't un-acquire his languages. He speaks in Japanese and English fluently for a six-year-old. The challenge going forward, as I see it, will be to maintain a bilingual environment where the languages are not an issue. In my thinking, which comes from my work over the last twenty or so years, if you make communication about the language you are bound to fail, just as if you make swimming about the water.

There was this other non-Japanese dad at the traffic park with his little boy Yuki-kun, who's a little younger than Osamu. They hit it off famously. Osamu was talking the dad's ear off in English, peppering him with random observations and questions, as is his way.

Osamu kind of gets that there's such a thing as English and Japanese. In his mind, as far as I can tell, there's just different versions of talking. I apologized to Yuki-kun's dad and said, "My boys are a bit gregarious." He laughed and said no problem. 

Tonight Eri made some delicious hamburger steaks with sauteed mushrooms and french fries. She has kindly accepted that I don't need rice at every meal.

I dolloped some of my spicy salsa on top.