Tokyo Disneyland

When my husband was serving in the Navy and stationed in California at NAS Moffett Field, he had two deployments to Japan. The second one occurred around the time that our daughter was about a year and half old. We decided that Tiffany and I would join my husband for the middle two months of the deployment. She and I packed up and flew across the Pacific in the middle of August.

We stayed in an apartment just outside of the base in Misawa, Japan. In September, we decided to take a vacation. A trip to Tokyo and Hong Kong sounded like the break that we all needed. So, we packed up and flew first to Tokyo for a few days.

Since our daughter loved Disneyland so much, we thought that an excursion to Tokyo Disneyland would be something she would enjoy. The park was a short train ride outside of the city, so early one morning we set out for a day of fun and park attractions.

What we did not realize was that the main attraction that day at the park was going to be our 18 month-old blond haired, blue-eyed little girl. Once we were inside the park, we headed to the Country Bear Jamboree. Back in the U.S., that had been one of Tiffany’s favorite spots in Disneyland. It took a few minutes to adjust to the fact that the bears were singing in Japanese with country accents! But we enjoyed the show tremendously.

On our way out of the Jamboree, a Japanese family motioned us over to them to take their picture. We grabbed their camera, and they grabbed our daughter! They wanted a picture with Tiffany! “How sweet,” I told my husband as we walked to our next event. I was touched by the fact that this family wanted to include our daughter in their memories of Disneyland.

While we were waiting in line for the ride through “It’s a Small World,” a Japanese woman handed us a small bag of treats and motioned that it was for Tiffany. Once again, I exclaimed to my husband about the hospitable nature of the Japanese. “They are so kind!” I told him.

As we walked through the park, people gestured to us to allow them photo opportunities with our little girl. She was like a rock star let loose in the crowd. “Hon,” I told him, “I think that our baby is absolutely the most perfect child on the planet, but I am her mother. I cannot understand the Japanese fascination with her.”

My husband took a deep breath and said, “It’s really quite simple. Look around the park. How many blonds do you see?” he asked me. As I stood there and took in all of the visitors to the park that day, it finally dawned on me! Our Tiffany was the only blond in the park, and probably in Tokyo for that matter.

My realization was almost a let down. I scooped my baby up in my arms and whispered to her that she was truly a very special little girl. What I thought was a global adoration of my little angel was simply that in that particular place, she was unique. For me as her mother, that uniqueness would be forever.

His Native Language

My son-in-law is Dutch and Dutch is his native language. While he was growing up, he also spent some time living in France and so he is fluent in French as well as Dutch. As a teenager, he joined a Boy Scout troop where meetings were conducted in English and he soon became fluent in English. I marvel at his ability to rapidly switch between the three languages. At a holiday gathering that included guests who spoke all three languages, Bram communicated with each person in his or her native language. It was truly impressive.

As a linguist, I was impressed with one particular instance of my son-in-law’s language usage. We were invited to my Uncle Bob’s for dinner one evening. My aunt and uncle take pride in preparing gourmet meals and then elegantly serving them to their guests. Of course, wine and the selection of the wine are important components of the meal. Uncle Bob makes sure that his guests never have an empty wine glass.

That was also the case on this particular evening. It was Bram’s first experience with an Uncle Bob meal. He didn’t realize that the faster he drank his wine, the faster Uncle Bob would refill. There were several times when I think Bram wasn’t even aware of the refilling. In any case, he was feeling quite happy at this family gathering.

Conversation flowed just as easily as the wine. We laughed and shared stories. We told Bram all about Tiffany when she was growing up. My son, Tim, filled his future brother-in-law in on special experiences he and Tiffany had shared. It was well after midnight when we finally got up from the table to head home.

As we had brought two cars, my son volunteered to be the designated driver for one of the cars. He had to be up early the next morning and hadn’t had any wine, so he drove my daughter and her then fiancé home. With the happy couple seated in the back, my son served as chauffeur.

On the ride home, while my daughter slept, the “boys” conversed about a bunch of things. It was a good time for them to get to know each other better. But at one point, whether it was because he was tired or had had too much wine, Bram said something in Dutch. Tim thought that Bram was mumbling because he was tired, so he asked him to repeat what he said. It wasn’t until that point that Bram even realized he had switched languages.

It just goes to show that when we are not 100% ourselves our brains revert to what they know best. In this case Bram’s brain went to the language it knew best. My son still has not learned any Dutch, but there have not been any major communication differences between the two since then. My son recognized that his brother-in-law doesn’t mumble, he just speaks words that Tim doesn’t understand!

The Man of Her Dreams

As my daughter was growing up, I knew that some day she would move off and live on her own. What I never dreamed of was her moving so far away! While she was a college student, Tiffany worked as a performer at the Maryland Renaissance Festival. Each year her role in the festival changed and ultimately she was selected to perform the role of Katherine Howard. The festival follows the story of Henry VIII of England, and Katherine became Henry’s fifth wife.

In the fall of 2007, Tiffany was playing Lady Katherine Howard. In the story line, the king had not yet selected her to be his bride, but Katherine was a member of the court. Tiffany was thrilled to once again be part of the cast as many of the players had become close friends. One of those friends was Melissa.

Melissa met her real life Irish husband online and they had been married for several years. During the festival that fall, the godfather of Melissa and Colin’s daughter was visiting. His name was Bram and he was visiting from the Netherlands. You see, Colin and Bram had grown up friends while both of their fathers were working in Belgium. They maintained their friendship even after both had moved on.

Between shows at the festival, Bram was introduced to the Lady Katherine Howard. The introduction lasted just a few minutes, but on the ride to the airport the following week, Bram questioned Melissa about the young actress who played Katherine Howard. He even asked for her email address.

Melissa quickly phoned Tiffany who agreed to the exchange. About ten days later, my daughter received an email that would ultimately change her life-and mine, too.

“What harm can come of an email correspondence with someone in Europe?” I told my daughter when she asked what I thought. “If nothing else, you’ll develop a friendship.” So I actually encouraged this.

Well, emails led to skype sessions and telephone calls. In November, my daughter set out on a trip to Amsterdam to really meet Abram Johann Jansen. When I dropped her off at the airport she told me that over the two months of correspondence with Bram she felt like he was her best friend. “Mom,” she whispered in my ear, “I think he might be the one and this trip will let me know for sure.”

That was on a Friday. I was to pick her up four days later. Sure enough when I met her again at the airport, she hugged me and said, “I have found the man of my dreams.” Almost to the exact day one year later, they were married. In the twenty-five years that I had known my daughter, I had never seen her as happy as she was with Bram.

Just as in the old world, explorers headed to the new world for adventure and treasure, my son-in-law came the U.S. to find his queen. And now I have three children. My son, my daughter and my son-in-law, who is worth his weight in gold for the happiness he brings to my first born. I just wish he brought her all that happiness a bit closer to home.

And so we begin

In May of this year, I passed my comprehensive exams for my doctoral program. I was assigned a dissertation committee chairperson and we had our first official dissertation meeting in August. Just this week, I submitted to her about seven or eight pages of my writing. We met, she gave me some feedback, we chatted and developed a time line for my progress.

My dissertation committee is in place. Three women whom I respect and trust. Three women who are dedicated to the instruction of language. Three women who dedicate themselves to being the best teachers so that their students will learn and grow. How fortunate am I. I have a husband and family who are supportive of my work. My husband listens as I rattle on about studies and methods. And I have students who are eager to bestow upon me next year the title of "Dr. J." I can do this.

I sit at my computer and realize that I am actually in the process of writing a doctoral dissertation. It's a bit overwhelming. When I look at what I must complete, I ask myself if I can really do this and am I completely crazy. Why at fifty years of age would one do something like this! And then I consider all that I have already learned from my program. My teaching has improved so much because I have implemented methods that I have read about and studied. The implications of my research will improve that.

But wow! Three chapters by the end of November and it is now September 11. And so I begin...

More language barriers

An International City

When my husband was flying the Navy P-3, he was deployed to Misawa Japan for six months. We decided that my daughter and I would join him for two months of the deployment. He left in June, and in July I was on the phone with the travel agent making my plans to go to Japan.

Since there was no direct flight from the U.S. to Misawa, the travel agent convinced me that my best option was to fly from Tokyo to Sapporo, spend the night there, and then head to Misawa the following morning. I shared with her my concern about communication since I spoke no Japanese. She assured me that I would be just fine as Sapporo was an international city. “After all,” she said, “The winter Olympics were held there, so there should be loads of English speakers in the city.”

In August, I headed to the airport in D.C. with my eighteen-month old daughter and all of our luggage. We would be spending the next two months in Japan. As we boarded the first of several flights on our journey to Japan, I was feeling very confident in my abilities to navigate the two of us through the long trip.

I arrived in Japan with a somewhat cranky child. It had been a long flight from Chicago. She howled when the people at immigration attempted to help us. She howled when we boarded the flight to Sapporo and she continued to howl the entire flight. When we arrived at the Sapporo airport, I think most of the passengers were ready to see the two Americans go.

Miraculously, Tiffany stopped crying in the airport so I was able to search for English speakers to help me find my way to the hotel. I was really looking forward to a nice hot bath. It was then that I realized my difficulties were just beginning.

I stopped several people to ask for assistance, even if it was to simply point me in the direction of the information booth. No one seemed to understand what I was saying. After what seemed to be a very long time spent trying to find anyone who could speak just a few words in English, I made a rash decision. I decided to stand in the middle of the baggage claim area and just yell the name of my hotel at the top of my voice.

Now you can imagine what a sight I must have been. A young American woman in the middle of a Japanese airport with a toddler in her arms just yelling over and over the name of a hotel. Some kind Japanese man must have taken pity on me. He guided me to a bus just outside the airport, said something to the driver, and indicated to me that I should sit down with my daughter. He was even kind enough to put our bags on the bus.

At every stop, I looked at the bus driver and repeated the name of my hotel. And at every stop, he nodded his head. Finally we reached the hotel! The one whose name I had become intimately acquainted with. I scooped up my daughter and struggled off the bus with all our baggage in tow. Once I got off of the bus and it had pulled away, I tripped and fell to the ground. I sat there and started to cry. My daughter gently wiped away my tears as the bell hop from the hotel gathered all of our things and showed us to the entrance of the hotel.

We finally made it to our room, took that hot bath I had longed for and then I did the one thing that made me feel the best. I called my Mommy and I asked her to please just speak English to me! International travel lesson learned: it is important to learn a few basic phrases in the language of the country you will be visiting.

Language Barriers

Siteseeing

During the summer of 1983, my husband was on a deployment with his Navy squadron in Okinawa, Japan. My infant daughter and I were able to spend one month of the six month deployment with him. Traveling from Washington, D.C., to Okinawa, Japan with a five month old baby was not an easy task, but somehow I managed!

While we were in Japan, my husband and I decided that we would visit some of the historic sites on the island. We went to the USO office at Kadena Air Force base and asked for information on how to get to the suicide cliffs. The cliffs were where Japanese officers and soldiers committed ritual suicide rather than surrender to the U.S. and Allied forces. The woman at the information desk gave us explicit directions on which public buses to take and where to get off. Our journey from Kadena to the cliffs would take us through Naha, the largest city in Okinawa, where we would have to change buses.

Loaded up with our directions and tourist information, the three of us-husband, wife and baby-set out on our excursion. Without being able to read a thing in Japanese, we managed to find the first bus stop and made it to the bus terminal in Naha. We then changed buses and the real excursion then began.

We were excited as we took our seats in the middle of the bus. Our baby, Tiffany, looked out the bus window and cooed. For quite some time, we were treated to beautiful scenery out that window. At each stop, passengers got off the bus, but very few got on. We continued down rolling, winding roads.

At one point, my husband glanced around the bus and noticed that there were very few remaining passengers. “We must be getting close,” he said to me. “There’s almost no one left. Just us tourists, I guess.” And we continued the ride.

Finally, the bus driver pulled off to the side of the road. The American trio was all that was left of a bus full of people coming out of Naha. He got out of his seat and came back to greet us. He said something to my husband. Speaking no Japanese, my husband politely responded “Naha. We want to go back to Naha.” It was about this time that we realized we had probably taken the wrong bus.

As a language educator, I find what happened next very amusing. The bus driver repeated what he had initially said, but this time it was in a volume about twice as loud as the first time. Then, taking his turn, my husband did the same thing. The shouting match continued for several minutes. I suppose each man thought that if he expressed himself slightly louder he might be understood.

I believe that my husband won the shouting match. The bus driver reluctantly returned to his seat and drove us back to the bus terminal in Naha. Exhausted from the experience, we decided to take the bus that we knew would return us to Kadena.

We never did see the suicide cliffs and for the remainder of our stay in Okinawa, we stayed very close to the gates of the base. The lesson we learned for international travel is that louder does not mean better. Increased volume will not necessarily improve your chances of being understood, but you must stand firm in your desires!

A Steady Job

After he graduated from the Naval Academy, my husband was off to Navy flight school in Pensacola, Florida. He spent six years as a naval aviator, and in the summer of 1987, he was hired by Delta Airlines. This summer he will begin his twenty-fourth year with Delta and I simply cannot fathom where the time has gone!

During the summer of 1987, the airlines were heavily recruiting military pilots from the Navy flight school in Florida. We had two small children and the idea of another sea deployment was not sitting well with me. My husband and I discussed the pros and cons of raising children in a military career. I really wanted them to grow up near extended family. So we compromised. He would try to get an airline job-we both knew that career also meant time away from family-but with the caveat that we would choose a home close to the Washington, D.C., area so that our son and daughter could be raised near family. An airline job would be a dream come true for us. Tim loved flying and I so desperately wanted to be near family and back home in Maryland.

Tim started the job application process. He had to get a commercial aircraft rating which involved private flying time and a new license. Once that was acquired he sent out applications to all of the major airlines. We were elated when Delta called him for an interview. He headed off to Atlanta for his interview and I waited anxiously for news about how things went. The day of his interview, I woke at 4:04am. I glanced at the clock at precisely that time. It had to be a good omen, 404 was the area code for Atlanta. So I fell back to sleep.

I heard my son moving in his crib and woke again. This time it was 7:27am. Another omen! If my husband were to be hired by Delta, he would begin by flying as a flight engineer on a Boeing 727! I was feeling very lucky and gleefully went to get my now cooing baby boy from his crib.

As the hours in the day went by, I decided to call my mother in Maryland to pass the time. I told her Tim was in Atlanta and I was waiting somewhat patiently for his call. She told me she had dreamt that she saw Tim in an airline uniform and how strange the dream was. We giggled about how the dream might be some sort of omen. I confessed to her my experiences with the clock. A few hours later, my husband called to say that things had gone well. We could expect to hear something in the next few weeks. And so the anxious waiting began.

I remember a morning in early August when my children and I were in the kitchen having breakfast. My husband had left earlier to go to work. The phone rang. I had been so engrossed in the morning routine that I really didn’t give any thought as to who might be calling. My heart began to pound when the woman on the other end said that she was with the human resources department at Delta Airlines and could she please speak with Tim Jarman. I took a very deep breath and calmly explained that he was at work, but I would get a message to him very quickly and have him return her call. My hand was shaking as I hung up the phone.

I dialed the phone as quickly as my shaking hands would allow. “Call her fast,” I said, “And then call me right back.”

Almost twenty-three years have passed since that day. How did they pass so quickly?