After a long journey

Saturday, June 27, 2026

The End of a Long Journey

Over the course of a little more than a month, there came to pass things so astonishing that even the self who first began studying Japanese four years ago would never have believed them possible. They were like dreams once glimpsed from afar, and I found myself wishing that someday I, too, might write something dazzling beyond measure.

From the very beginning, I differed from most learners. I never studied from famous textbooks such as Minna no Nihongo or Genki. Instead, I bought nothing more than a grammar compendium and a notebook of vocabulary, and whenever I encountered a word I did not know, I simply looked it up in an English-Japanese dictionary. That was four years ago. Some may think it something worthy of pride, yet in truth I merely happened to have an abundance of free time during my first year at university. Thus it was that, in scarcely a month, I had finished studying the lowest level of the Japanese Language Proficiency Test. At the end of that grammar book there was a mock examination, and, thinking it a fitting opportunity to test my own command of the language, I sat for it. To my astonishment beyond words, I obtained a perfect score. Yet, perfect though it was, it remained only the lowest level, and I understood all too clearly that, gratifying as it felt, it would scarcely prove useful in the real world.

Buoyed on by that success, I advanced to Level Four—or, if you prefer, the next rank. Compared with what had come before, it felt as though I had leapt from one cliff only to land upon another even higher. It proved considerably more difficult than I had expected. It took longer than I had imagined, but, just as before, the book ended with another mock examination. Without hesitation I attempted it. Regrettably, I could no longer attain a perfect score, though I did manage to earn enough points to pass. Even so, I thought to myself that this was still far from enough to carry on even an ordinary conversation. I hoped that, upon reaching Level Three, I might finally become capable of writing essays and discussing everyday matters with ease. Thus I resolved to purchase yet another grammar book.

Perhaps it is simply my nature, but whether it be design, software development, or any field of knowledge whatsoever, I have always wished to become proficient as swiftly as possible. So I sought to apply that same philosophy to my study of Japanese. Yet the grammar at Level Three grew unexpectedly intricate. New usages and subtle distinctions appeared in abundance, and before I knew it, half a year had slipped away. It was then that I also discovered that listening comprehension was my weakest point. I found it strangely perplexing. A year and a half had already passed since I first began.

By the time I entered my second year of university, I was required to choose my specialization. Life grew considerably busier, and I concluded that it would be best to suspend my Japanese studies for a time. Around then I was also searching for an internship where I might apply what I had learned at university. A close friend invited me into a tiny startup company which he and several companions had founded together. My professors, however, looked upon it with little favor. They thought the company too small to amount to anything and insisted that I would gain nothing there. Yet, as it turned out, I believed otherwise. Precisely because it was such a newly founded company, I was entrusted with work that no large corporation would ever have allowed someone in my position to undertake. Though the company paid no salary, I count myself fortunate, for it became the very opportunity through which I was able to cultivate both my abilities and my knowledge. It is thanks to that company, and to its president and department manager, that today I can say I know rather more than the average person.

Within that company were also people studying Japanese. Seeing their diligence inspired me to continue once more, and so I purchased a Level Two textbook. Yet through a laziness I myself cannot comprehend, an entire year passed during which I studied nothing at all. I was furious with myself.

Then the New Year arrived. Every New Year there is a tradition of writing upon a sheet of paper one’s hopes and aspirations for the coming year. Believing it a worthwhile custom, I did the same. Among the things I wrote was a single resolution: This year, I shall absolutely sit for the Level Two examination. Thus I opened at last the very book I had purchased long ago and never once touched. Beginning with the New Year, besides studying on my own, I also began volunteering as a tour guide. Through that work I came to know several Japanese friends. Some remain in contact with me even now, while others have drifted beyond my reach. Curiously enough, because I guided people of every nationality imaginable, there was never once a moment when I heard those legendary words so revered among learners of Japanese:

“Your Japanese is excellent.”

To this day I know not why. Since conversations usually proceeded without difficulty, I decided it mattered little whether those words were ever spoken. Still… I could not help but feel just a little disappointed. Perhaps my command of the language had simply not yet reached that level.

This past May may well have been the most important period of all. One of the Japanese friends I mentioned earlier gave me a grammar textbook intended for Japanese middle-school students. The moment I began reading it, it felt as though clouds that had long shrouded my mind suddenly parted. The subtle distinctions and usages of grammar became astonishingly clear. At the same time, however, it shattered—almost violently—the entire framework through which I had understood the explanations found in textbooks written for foreigners. The process was painful. Yet I continued onward, studying until I reached the very end of the book. By then I felt as though I might one day come to understand Japanese in its entirety. Nor did it end there. The final chapter was entitled “The Difference Between Literary and Colloquial Japanese.” Naturally my curiosity was stirred. From there I searched through videos, blogs, forums, and whatever else I could find. A completely new perspective upon the Japanese language gradually unfolded before me. It awakened something deep within me. Though I knew I would have to descend into depths seemingly without end, my curiosity only grew stronger. I wished to know more. Ever more.

Even now, it seems as though it were only yesterday that I wrote my very first sentence using the grammar of Classical Japanese.

“One who wishes to become like Sakura-chan ought to study Classical Japanese with all diligence.”

It is a slight regret of mine that I wrote shikkari (“firmly”) instead of osaosa, for the latter would have rendered it perfect. And yet… I think it best not to edit it. Looking back now, I realize that I can write something of this length in scarcely an hour, and I cannot help asking myself just how far I have truly come. Once, I constantly worried whether the sentences I wrote were grammatically correct, whether my wording was genuinely natural. Now… I scarcely care anymore. All I desire is to write down the flow of my thoughts. Even should there be mistakes, they trouble me not in the slightest. There is a freedom in that. A quiet ease of heart.

Well then, however long I may ramble, next week the examination awaits me. Whether I like it or not, I must commit to memory endless lists of dry, stubborn grammar. So whenever I take a short rest from my studies, I spend my time analyzing classical literature such as The Tale of Genji, writing essays like this on whatever subject comes to mind, or chatting with my Japanese friends about the most shamelessly vulgar of topics—anything, so long as I do not grow bored.

As I wrote in a previous diary entry, there have been Japanese people who, upon seeing my fascination with Classical Japanese and literature, have wondered why such interests deserve admiration, or who have playfully called me things like town maiden or young princess. Yet I have always felt it no more than a matter of personal taste. This method of study, too, surely has its shortcomings. Only a few days ago I asked a Japanese teacher—someone who had once studied linguistics abroad in England—a question concerning Japanese grammar. He could not answer it. Instead, his brief reply read:

“That’s a difficult one… Anne, you’re studying things so advanced that they’re beyond the reach of most ordinary Japanese people.”

From that moment onward, I understood with perfect clarity that the path before me was one I could rely upon no one else to walk. I would have to rely upon my own strength alone.

Kinomoto Sakura