The Japanese school system starts its fiscal year in April. In all of the junior high schools, English classes start at that time. Probably, the first skit that the students would see regards greeting. Greetings with “How do you do?” and “How are you?” In these skits, the Japanese students learn to greet people at the first sight with “How do you do?” and to greet people already acquainted with “How are you?” The students do not wonder if the usage of these two phrases varies from corresponding Japanese words. And the teacher are very frequently unaware of the differences in usage, either.
They are indeed different. In Japanese conversation, when you first meet people, “Hajimemashite,” “How do you do?” in Japanese language, is often used. “Gokigen-Ikagadesuka,” “How are you?” in Japanese language, is almost never used except for extremely formal situations or written forms.
The situation is completely reversed in the usage of these two greetings in the United States. When I began to live in the dormitory, I had limited number of friends. Yet only with a few regular speakers in daily life caused disastrous flood of “How are you?” In the English classes in Japanese schools, they only teach “Fine” as the appropriate answer. I mean THE appropriate answer. This may be because the Japanese textbook editors considered it impolite to reply “Hey, I’m sick. Leave me alone” to “How are you” questions. This may be also because the textbook editors thought that “How are you?” is not used very often as “Gokigen-Ikagadesuka” is not.
I could survive with sole unreliably simple word “Fine” through the first quarter. People who wanted to talk to me were not quite many. And the people who wanted to were usually close enough to know that my English verbal ability had been miserable. They did not expect me to respond fashionably to their “How are you?” when I had troubles even in completing sentences.
Demand for a variety of responses to “How are you?” skyrocketed from the second quarter. I became somewhat notorious as I became sophomore in only one quarter. Now people were aware that this awkward English speaker was at least more than above in terms of academic achievement. Because I ran through freshman courses to sophomore courses, people who know me inevitably proliferated. The same thing happened among the instructors. They all noticed the unbalance between my English ability and my academic performance. This was the start of the greeting hell.
I can recall myself at the beginning of the second term, running from a class to another, repeating “Fine!” “Fine!” “Fine!” It didn’t take much time until many of my kind friends gave me identical advice, “You gotta stop that Fine-fine stuff. You sound stupid.” They mercifully taught me some phrases to replace “Fine” with, which were “Couldn’t be better” “So-so” “Halfway decent” “I’m doing okay” etc. plus some gestures with the thumb.
Adding only a few pieces of new repertoire did not help me much, as I faced the reality where each of the people I knew asked me “How are you?” more than twice a day. It was not a large campus. This could always happen. To these people, even if I had increased my repertoire by five times, the boring simplicity in my greeting would not have been improved.
Of course, the response like, “Hey, I told you ‘I’m fine’ an hour ago. I’m not gonna change so easily” did not work, either. I tried that. Then, strange enough, all the listeners of this type of my response would say, “Uh-uh, Sho, You can’t tell! You may learn that you have flunked the exam since we last met.” It went on and on by listing all of those unlucky stuffs which might have changed me in an hour. American college students were very challenging.
I needed another rescue. That was another time friends were for. They told me, this time, to say whatever came up to my mind. Maybe they could not find any effective cure for me. But at least I tried only to turn out in vain. It took too much time to respond. People were generous enough to let me finish my greeting. They were responsible people who recognized their responsibility to wait for any responses to their own questions. It went like this.
“How are you, Sho?” the speaker saw me in the eye.
“Umm… I’m acceptably fine.” I said, after I stopped.
“What did you say?” he stopped and walked back to me.
“I said, ‘I am acceptably fine.’” I said awkwardly.
“Oh-ho-ho. You are acceptably fine, ha? That’s a new one. Okay Sho, keep on moving!”
This was how my challenges ended. They seemed to be entertained to hear my strange answers in return to their precious time. But I did not obtain anything through the stressful challenges. This horrible custom of daily greeting annoyed me until my graduation. Or I should say that it does even now, as I can not find any cure yet.
Only good news to the trouble turned out to be people’s growing closeness. As they got close, many of them started to say, “What’s up?” instead of “How are you?” In this case, I would say, “Sky” if I was outside, or “Ceiling” if I was inside. Then they would laugh and parole me. The response varied from time to time, according to what’s exactly above me. It could be fluorescent lights, chandelier, bedroom upstairs, Mars, cloud, or stealth bomber. The listeners were not bored by the repetition of the same answer.
If you ever have a chance to talk to me, please do not ask me “How are you?” I had enough of it. And I still can’t find THE appropriate answer to it.