There are however, many jobs in this world that I do not consider fun and would therefore never want to try. These jobs include accountant, toll booth money collector, proctologist, and linguist. Now I actually don’t think being a linguist would be that bad, I just don’t think I’d be any good at it. I say this because my proficiency in languages other than English is quite appalling.

I do try to learn other languages, but I will be the first to admit that my progress is usually stunted by my lack of interest. I guess it is the whole chicken and egg thing. Am I bad at learning foreign languages because I put forth very little effort, or do I put forth very little effort because I am bad at learning foreign languages? I know that my high school German teacher, my college French professor and I all had different opinions on this matter, as I frequently tried to blame my poor performance in their classes on a genetic deficiency. In retrospect, I probably should have given more credence to their opinions. Despite my repeated negotiations, I was never able to persuade my educators from their emphatic belief that indeed my poor performance in language class was the result of a lack of effort and not a genetic deficiency. I still hold my beliefs as valid, but I have to live with the fact that in the end, my professor’s opinion was the one that mattered, and therefore I have been forever prohibited from following a career path as a professional linguist.

Whatever the reason for my academic shortcomings, I can now say I really do wish I could speak a foreign language. Living in a country where you don’t understand the language, can’t read the signs, and basically have no way to understand the logic and culture behind why people do the things they do can sometimes be frustrating. It is only frustrating however, in so much as you let it be that way. I try to find the adventure in the whole experience. After all, I am the visitor in their country. It should be my responsibility to figure out how to communicate and not feel like it is the obligation of others to learn English.

In the frequent occurrence where I encounter a situation where nobody can understand each other, then my usual practice is to accept the good intentions of all involved and look at the communications process as a fun little game. For example, the other day I needed to find an ATM machine. When I arrived in Japan, I exchanged money at the airport and when I finally ran out, I needed to get more. I had tried a few different ATMs in various convenience stores and banks, but unfortunately, those machines didn’t accept my card, so I was unsuccessful. Being the resourceful traveler that I am, I asked the people at the front desk of the hotel if they knew where there was an ATM that would accept my American ATM card.

Now I think it is important at this point in my story to explain the help at the front desk of my Japanese hotel. First, I must emphasize, they are very, very friendly as every time I walk near the front desk, they always say hello. This is usually followed by my saying hello back. They then say hello back and nod. I too say hello again and then nod. They return the nod, and I do the same. Usually the hellos and nods continue until I have completely crossed the hotel lobby and have moved out of site. Unfortunately, I have come to the conclusion that we exchange so many hellos because basically, that is the extent of their English skills. Not quite, but almost. It just depends on who ends up waiting on you.

Anyway, back to my story. So I asked the friendly folks behind the front desk where I could find an ATM that accepted my American ATM card. At first, they just stared at me. I then asked “where can I find cash?”

Nothing. “How about money? Where can I get money?”

Again, nothing. “Yen, how about Yen?”

“Yen?” Progress.

“Yes, Yen. Where can I get Yen?”

“We don’t have Yen.”

“I know you don’t have Yen, but is there somewhere that I can get Yen?” The man looked at me blankly. Hmm. Clearly plan B was in order, so I pulled out my wallet and showed the now group of four, my ATM card.

“I would like to get Yen from my ATM card. Can you help me?”

They all looked at my card, and then one said “postal office.”

“I can get Yen from the postal office?”

“Yes.”

“Great. How do I get to the postal office?” They then proceeded to draw me a map on how to get from the hotel to the post office. I thanked them and then nodded. They nodded back. I nodded back and then they nodded. Realizing that this cycle had to end, I just turned and left for the post office.

When I got to the post office, it looked amazingly like any post office in the United States. Unfortunately, I didn’t see a counter for money exchange, so I got in line with the other people who were presumably there to mail letters. When my turn came to speak to the person behind the counter, I said hello and then gave him my ATM card. The man behind the counter just looked at me for a minute and then proceeded to say something in Japanese. I waited until he was done, nodded and said “I want Yen.”

The man nodded back. He was perplexed. He then started speaking very excitedly in Japanese. I pushed my card closer to him and said “Yen,” and then nodded. I’m still not quite sure when you nod and don’t nod. I was beginning to think he thought I was a bank robber. Very soon after, another man appeared out of a door that I didn’t even realize existed until the door opened. He came over to me, nodded and then started speaking in Japanese. I gave him my ATM card and said “Yen” and then nodded back.

The man nodded back and started speaking more Japanese to me. I nodded and repeated myself. “Can I have Yen?” He nodded back. I repeated myself again, this time more slowly “Where can I get Yen? Cash? Money?” Again, we exchanged nods.

Then, the man’s eyes lit up and he said “ATM?”

“Yes! ATM! Where is there an ATM?” He then proceeded to keep speaking in Japanese. When he was done, I nodded, said thank you and started to leave the post office. When I got to the door, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and the man was standing behind me pointing to a side door. I looked at the door and saw a little sign that read “ATM.” Finally!