Bite your lip
Wednesday, 02 May 2007When I was comforting M over a year ago when she was upset by someone who had disappointed her, I told her, “Don’t worry about it, we’re all just human, and all humans make mistakes.” Except I was speaking Japanese. Bad Japanese. And instead of saying ‘human,’ I said ‘carrot.’ We are all just carrots, and all carrots make mistakes.
Not a big deal, since there were only the two of us as witnesses. But not this weekend, when there were 70 people at our wedding.
It was my bright idea that we should write our own vows separately and then speak them to one another in Japanese during the English ceremony. I spoke mine first, reciting them mostly from memory, sometimes referring to my cheat sheet for words I’d forgotten. Masayo listened intently, tearing up at the right spots, looking deep into my eyes. My words crescendoed, and I promised my love to M every time I whispered into her ears or shouted from the rooftops that I love her.
I looked M in the eyes expecting a huge response of gratitude, but instead I was met with a look of shock. It turns out that I had mis-copied the pronunciation of ears and said ‘chichiyaku’ instead of ‘sasayaku.’ Which means, “every time I whisper to your breasts or shout from the rooftops…”
By then it was too late for anyone to object to the wedding. M proceeded with her vows and the ceremony continued. Afterwards, the nervousness I’d felt on stage had started to dissipate. I figured that our guests could see how nervous I had been, so when they asked me “Are you still nervous?” I told them that I was fine now.
I remained fine until I realized that I wasn’t being asked about my nervousness, but was being told that the ceremony had touched the guests. I had mistaken ‘kandousuru’ with ‘kinchousuru’, so people telling me that they were touched, and I was telling them not to worry because I felt better already!
Looking back on the situation, it seems that people might have been talking about my vows when they said they were touched. Given my faux pas, though, it might have been they were trying to say that they didn’t feel touched, but rather violated. That might explain why my response of essentially “don’t worry, it gets better” left the guests quiet after talking to me, awkwardly waiting for their opportunity to escape.
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