When a Language Barrier is No Barrier at All

This fall, I am studying abroad at Waseda Law School in Tokyo. I have been in Japan for exactly 3 weeks as of today. I have done a decent amount of tourism and am settling in to my classes. Tonight's post is not about any of that, however -- this post is about dance.

By a stroke of luck, one student in my law school program is a professional dancer. He has danced all over Asia and has a decent number of dancer friends and connections in Tokyo. Thanks to this student, J, I have now attended several contact improv jams. I had to trek across Tokyo for the first but the latest one was right in my backyard. I merely had to cross the canal behind my apartment and track down a lovely converted home in a garden. 

I located the dance studio, J taught a short class on contact improv, and then the jam began. 

Contact improv, short for contact improvisation, is a form of contemporary dance in which dancers improvise simultaneously. Typically, there is an emphasis on contact between dancers (this can be as simple as touching hands, or could involve lifts and acrobatics), but contact isn't obligatory. I am familiar with the dance form because I did some contact improv at Berkeley. However that was 6 years ago -- I am a little rusty!

Unsurprisingly, most the dancers spoke Japanese and little to no English. I speak English and virtually no Japanese. Because my Japanese is rudimentary, my daily interactions in Tokyo are limited to basic phrases. I can say things like "two of this dish, please" and "is this ok?" but I cannot have a particularly meaningful conversation with someone unless they happen to speak English. This is a bit isolating, but enough people speak English that the effect is mitigated (plus, the students and professors in my program all speak English).

Due to my language restriction, all I could do was introduce myself to the other dancers. Under other circumstances, I might've asked "how long have you been dancing?" or "did you grow up in Tokyo?" or "I ate too much ramen on the way here and am having some regrets." Instead, I just said "Melody desu" and left it at that. 

The language barrier bothered me more in dance class than it generally does because I knew I had something in common with the dancers. I knew I was missing out on discussions of style, technique, artistry, dancer injuries, etc. These were my people, but I could not speak to them.

But then, contact improv! I had forgotten that dance itself is a form of communication! My language isolation melted away. I danced with a woman who was curious, considerate and playful (or at least, her dancer self was). I danced with a man who was deliberate and smooth. I danced with a man who was confident and a bit of a risk-taker, but skilled enough to pull it off. I danced with a woman who was nervous but wanted to learn.  

I didn't need words to become acquainted with these people born half a world away from me. I can't say that I know them well, but thanks to dance, at least I know them sukoshi.

;)