28.09.18

 

For today’s log I thought I’d talk a little about my childhood dream since I mentioned it in my introduction post but did not find the space to fit it in and elaborate on it.

As a child, back in the early 2000s, I was introduced to Japanese animation, now most commonly known as anime, and Japanese comics, a.k.a manga. The internet was just becoming a home thing, but internet cafes were still predominant in the industry. Most people who could afford to have internet connection at home would buy prepaid cards or have it connected through the phone. Therefore, most anime one had access to was aired on TV, same shows were replayed every few months and episodes were usually run in the afternoon and re-run early morning next day. That made it hard to miss a show, however, there was virtually little to no variety. Once our household had internet directly from a provider, essentially, I delved into search of animes, the last episodes of which had not been aired on the national TV, as the media had not purchased the right to run them. Some of the series I wanted to see did not have English dub so without much hesitation I downloaded the Japanese dub with English subtitles. I had a very good understanding of the English language by that time, so I eagerly finished every show I couldn’t have before and ironically enough, this is exactly how I discovered my dream. The more shows I watched, the more I was exposed to Japanese language, the more I found myself understanding it. Simple words and phrases to start with and soon I was fascinated with the language. I wanted to know more, I was looking up information, pictures, videos, anything I could find on the net at the time. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

 

I then took my fascination to the next level, I vowed to myself that one day, I will go to Japan, and more specifically Hokkaido, the northernmost island, making up Japan, for no matter what reason, I had made up my mind. My dream, however, was not to visit the country, but to learn the language, which I had decided on a separate occasion. The two, regardless of how closely related to each other, for me were two separate entities, two different dreams and did not necessarily have to intertwine, one could go without the other. Visiting Japan could wait until I was older, until I had a job, savings, opportunity to go, it could wait until distant future, but learning the language, on the other hand side, could not. I wanted to start as soon as possible, I wanted to speak it at any cost.

At the time, learning such an exotic language was either too expensive or was taught by an amateur for nothing in exchange. In my position, I picked the second as my 12 or so year self could not afford to even ask her parents for funding of something that could be easily dismissed as a temporary caprice or a whim. As anyone can imagine, that did not work out as desired but years later I would actually start proper Japanese classes. In my final year of high school my father asked me what I wanted to do in the future. At the moment I was asked I had no answer, nor did I have any idea. My classmates had all began to shape their dreams and goals and how to implement them, while I was too naïve to think I still have time and that things will somehow go however is best. The only thing I knew I wanted to do was learn Japanese so I gathered courage and told my father that I would like to go to university and study this language, that has literally no future in my country. I said it on a whim and I very much expected to be shot down as delusional or too optimistic, however, that did not happen and contrary to all my expectations I was told that if this is what I want to do, my father, a strict former military Major, would support and help me achieve my dream. He then promised to fund my studies in a university that offered Japanese language as course and also told me that if I wanted to get a head-start he would happily pay for a language course. Oh, “over the clouds” fades as an expression to express how happy I was.

29. 09.18

 

As one can expect, I found the relevant course in no time and signed up for basic level. I completed the course with highest grades, but at the end of it, contrary to my expectations, I hadn’t learned much. As it turned out, once again, I was taught by an amateur with limited knowledge. Of course, I did not realize this is the case until years later.

30.09.18

 

To that realization I came about soon after I enrolled in a London university, where I finally got the opportunity to make that childhood dream of mine come true. How exciting and terrifying that was. After couple of months in to the academic year, as my studies were progressing I started noticing my father and I were cheated about that beginner Japanese course, but that had little significance. I did feel bad for having spent a rather big sum of my father’s budget (especially for the standards of the poor country I come from), on a course that was not even genuine, but at the same time I felt overjoyed that I had made it to one of the best and most prestigious academic institutions in the UK and Europe. My university, small and plain looking at first sight, stood tall and proud. With courses such as politics and economics to start with and exotic languages, of which Japanese, Chinese, Arabic, Swahili, Korean were only the beginning of the list, it held its ground, undefeated and prominent.

I am always reminded of a phrase my mother is rather fond of – “it does make a difference even if you only breath the air in a university”.

 

01.10.18

 

Perhaps a rough and a little too literal translation, though the meaning matches well enough, a university changes the way one thinks, perspective and outlook. I spent my first two years there a bit transiently, working and studying full time did not mix well and I missed all opportunities to make friends, which now I appreciate as a positive outcome, but at the time I was studying it felt as if was distanced from everyone. I also enrolled into a joint degree, Japanese and politics, so contact with other students was close to non-existent. I have never actually suffered or felt left out but, if anything, I was slightly jealous of classmates studying together, comparing homework or just chilling in the library, all the while I was crossing streets and rooms to jump from one seminar to another. Basic student troubles were and remained until my very graduation, irrelevant to me. By my third year, which I spent in Japan, I was glad I had taken the path of a lone wolf with a small pack to revisit occasionally. I had my own friends, that I cherished and until present day I do not regret not meddling with the youth in my surroundings.

 

02.10.18

 

My whole student life can actually be concluded quite easily, as just an ordinary experience with almost nothing notable. As much as I loved and felt proud of my standing in that particular institution, I never actually did anything outside of my study field, my 3 years in the UK university passed in a blink of an eye, with me achieving nothing but a third-rate degree. In the couple of years, following my graduation, I have felt sorry I could not participate in more social activities, remorseful I could not have enriched my knowledge and personality, I could not have visited more lectures I was interested in, about all the things I wanted to do but was too busy working, too tired to bother with, too disappointed to participate in, too something, too another excuse, too afraid. My whole student life, now that I try to examine it objectively, but fail to as emotions speak for themselves, was a mixture of bitterness, sweetness, joy, sadness, confusion and worries. Some of all that experience transformed into spices and some into an ever-returning nostalgia. Of course, I do not plead I was exceptional in any way, I’m sure every other student feels the same, it’s just we all have different standing and background to contribute to our stories.

So what was it that I managed to achieve? This is a question that until present day comes and goes, still unanswered, making me wonder, what was the point, was there one to begin with, why did I subject myself to that, what did I get in the end… my childhood dream was indeed achieved, fulfilled but at what cost… countless sleepless nights, tired to the point of nearly setting my room on fire, deprivation of social life, weeping and crying on a nearly daily basis, depression, fights with the remains of my family, and that would be only the beginning of the bitterness I still feel. So I ask again, what was it that I achieved in the end? My nearly life-long dream of being able to speak a certain language was achieved. Was it worth it, was it necessary, was it even useful to me…

 

03.10.18

 

As to whether I have a career utilizing that language, now that I have graduated and have the time and opportunity to do so much more, no, I do not. And that is one of the main reasons I have been feeling all that struggle might have been for naught. I often think, terrified, “what if I forget?”, the head on my shoulders, of course, rightfully tells me that it’s not possible to forget something that I passionately studied and passionately continue to use at best in my free time, as a hobby, but fear is often an irrational emotion and in many cases is baseless as well. Now, for my case, I do realize it is not entirely groundless, however, not necessarily completely unreasonable. In the end of the day I try to fight my own demons and stay firmly on the ground, so I don’t lose to that irrationality and cause my own downfall for good.

 

I find it a rather peculiar story, how my dream started, how its achievement developed and how it all ended. I tried to put it together in a way that makes sense, but I do realise I might have not exactly succeeded, considering how much I have omitted. Episodes and events I don’t remember, trials and errors I deemed unimportant, people I would rather not mention and etc.

 

04.10.18

 

My own inability to write and express things or even myself in written form also contributed to this story becoming what I still consider is just a spillage of words. Actually, rereading the whole story, I can tell it makes little sense and does not uncover me in the way I meant it to. Nonetheless I feel slightly content about it, like it would aid me in my search of myself sooner or later. So with this, I would like to conclude my second post in this blog.

 

PS. I decided to leave the dates from the draft in the actual post to keep track of my logs. As I mentioned before, this is going to be a conversation with myself, so I thought I’d at least keep an eye of my progress/regress.