dan in japan

One of the odd things about immersing myself in a place where English is spoken in very small amounts (if at all) is that my hearing and sight becomes finely tuned to anything English I see written or hear spoken. I noticed this in Europe also, but more people spoke English and  I walk into a supermarket and the random splashings of English leap out at me and seem even more ridiculous than their misuse. A group of tourists 40 metres talking about what shoes they’re wearing away is easily understood. Having a conversation with the occasional native English speaker I’ve met is like shifting a dog out of the way of the TV and seeing the whole picture again. What has been weird is when I put headphones on and listen to music with English lyrics. I can understand and follow everything that’s said. The indecipherable murmurs of Thom Yorke are heard as if spoken with the diction of the Queen. The dirty and violent lyrics of Nick Cave provide a disturbing commentary to 800 year old temples. The rhymes of MIA are easy to follow and don’t require squinting my ears to understand. It all becomes clear. My mind has trained itself to be a loose thread on a sock, picking up any prickle of English along the way. When I put my headphones on, I find myself wearing inside out Explorer Socks in a field of velcro-like thistles.