Skip to main content

Winding Down, or So I Thought

Down to 23 days now (yes, I am keeping a countdown). Winter break is over and it's back to school as usual. I thought my work would be over and I'd be enjoying my last weeks here with my friends. Apparently, I was severely kidding myself. I have been assigned three speeches to write and present in front of large groups of people, all within a week of each other.

One of them you already know about, my speech about rock paper scissors that I was toying around with. I did decide to go with it, and over winter break I spent an obnoxious amount of time trying to translate the version I wrote in English. Here's what I wrote in English:


恂恄恓恧恗悇

                There is a saying that goes ā€œDonā€™t judge a book by its coverā€. It can be applied to books, of course, meaning that you shouldnā€™t judge the quality of a book based on the quality of its coverā€”or, things are not always what they seemā€”but it can also be applied to other, everyday things such as rock paper scissors (RPS).

                RPS is a game that is known around the world by many different names. Here in Japan it is, of course, ā€œjan-ken-ponā€, while in English the three symbols mean ā€œrockā€, ā€œpaperā€ and ā€œscissorsā€ [show gestures w/ meanings]. There are even more meanings for these three symbols, for example, in Vietnam and Indonesia the ā€˜fistā€™ represents a hammer, rather than a rock. The frequency RPS is played was one of the things that surprised me about Japan. In America, RPS is used for the same purpose from deciding who should use the bath first to who should partner up for a projectā€”but in Japan itā€™s used much more frequently than in America. Even more surprising was that it wasnā€™t just for kids: adults played RPS as well without batting an eye.

                All of the RPS I have played to play brought to mind one of my classes from last year, Game Theory, which essentially combines statistics with psychology in order to achieve the ā€œoptimal resultā€. Obviously, Game Theory can be applied to bigger issues, but RPS is also an example of Game Theory, albeit a simpler one. In RPS, the ā€œoptimal resultā€ is achieved by being completely random in what you throw. However, the ā€œoptimal resultā€ in a series of RPS games would be an equal amount of wins, losses, and ties, but the goal isnā€™t to lose or tie, itā€™s to win. Humans in general are also terrible at being truly random. Thatā€™s where the psychology comes into play. There are several strategies thatā€”while not perfect of courseā€”increase the chances of winning.

1.       Beginners and men are more likely to use rock on their first throw. Why? Rock has a powerful and strong connotation, which appeals to men. So if you are playing with a guy or a beginner, you can use paper to counter them.

2.       Strategy two is to lead with scissors. You do this when you assume that your opponent is also trying to play a step ahead. I.E. you assume that they know you would counter their rock with paper, so you play scissors. That way you are guaranteed a tie at worse and a win at best.

3.       Strategy three is to be aware of someone using the same throw twice in a row. When they do, you can be sure that on their third throw they will change. The reason is that humans in general hate to seem predictable, so in order to be more ā€œrandomā€ they will change their throw. That way, you can eliminate one option and use what would give you either a stalemate or a win.

4.       Strategy four is, when you have no idea what to do, use paper. You do this for two reasons; one of which being it beats rock, the most common throw, and also because scissors is the least used of the three options, by a few percentage points.

When you look at the simple example that RPS provides of analyzing your opponents, making predictions about what they would do based on your analysis, and then acting on that knowledge, itā€™s easy to see how the mindset of RPS can be applied to larger things: such as in business, when trying to outsmart a rival, or in war, when trying to outmaneuver your opponent. The latter is an extreme example, of course, but the principles remain the same just on a larger scale and with more at stake than not getting that last slice of pizza.

                So the next time you need to use RPS to decide who gets that last cookie, or the order for using the ofuro, with a little extra thinking, a victory is within the palm of your hand.
The title is pronounced "aikodesho" and you say it when you have a tie--it means something along the lines of "one more time". I'm quite aware that I could have gone much more indepth with the strategies (there are loads more) and some of the analysis, but this is already bordering on too difficult for me to translate as it is. The ideas are so techical that I had a hell of a time figuring out how to express them. And by all the red my teacher put on the first page of the translation, I still have a ways to go. But I'm not upset, I took on a challenge, so perfection was not expected.

The second speech is one AFS asked me to do, talking about "My Experience with AFS Japan" and partially a thank you to my host family. That is also supposed to be 4-5 minutes and I have to say it at the farewell party on the 22nd in front of AFS people, exchange students, host families and probably some other people as well. Slightly easier topic, which I finished writing yesterday and had my host mom look over. Not too many edits, just a few phrases that I'd written awkwardly were corrected:


å…­ć‹ęœˆć€‚å…«ęœˆć«ē§ćÆå…­ć‹ęœˆćŒćØć£ć¦ć‚‚é•·ć„ę™‚ćØę€ć„ć¦ć„ć¾ć—ćŸć€‚ć—ć‹ć—ć€ć„ć¾å…­ć‹ęœˆćŒé£›ć‚“ć§č”Œćć¾ć—ćŸć€‚ć„ć¾ć€ē§ćÆć‚¢ćƒ”ćƒŖ悫恫åø°ć‚‹ć®ćŒäæ”ć˜ć‚‰ć‚Œć¾ć›ć‚“ć€‚ę—„ęœ¬ćÆć™ć”ćę„½ć—ć‹ć£ćŸć§ć™ć€‚ćć†ć—ć¦ć€ļ¼”ļ¼¦ļ¼³ćØē§ć®ćƒ›ć‚¹ćƒˆćƒ•ć‚”惟ćƒŖ恮恊恋恑恧ē§ćÆę„½ć—ć„ę™‚ć‚’ć™ć”ć—ć¾ć—ćŸć€‚ē§ćÆćŸćć•ć‚“ć®å¤§åˆ‡ćŖå‹é”ć‚’ä½œć‚Šć¾ć—ćŸć€‚ē§ć‚‚ćÆļ¼”ļ¼¦ļ¼³ć®ć„ć‚ć„ć‚ćŖć‚¤ćƒ™ćƒ³ćƒˆć«å‚åŠ ć—ć¾ć—ćŸć€‚ę„Ÿč¬ć®ę°—ęŒć”ć§ć„ć£ć±ć„ć§ć™ć€‚

åŽ»å¹“å››ć¤ć®ļ¼”ļ¼¦ļ¼³ć®å‡ŗę„äŗ‹ćÆē§ć«ćŠę°—ć«å…„ć‚Šć®ę€ć„å‡ŗ恫ćŖć‚Šć¾ć—ćŸć€‚ćć®å‡ŗę„äŗ‹ćÆļ¼Ŗļ½…ļ½Žļ½…ļ½“ļ½™ļ½“怀ļ¼¦ļ½…ļ½“ļ½”ļ½‰ļ½–ļ½ļ½ŒćØļ¼¤ļ½‰ļ½“ļ½Žļ½…ļ½™ļ½Œļ½ļ½Žļ½„ćØćŠć›ć‚“ć¹ć„ć‚’ä½œć‚Šć¦ć„ć‚‹å·„å “ćØ銭ę¹Æć«č”Œć£ćŸć“ćØć§ć™ć€‚ćć®ć‚¤ćƒ™ćƒ³ćƒˆćÆć™ć¹ć¦ę—„ęœ¬ć®ę–‡åŒ–ćŒć‚ć‚Šć¾ć™ć‹ć‚‰ćć‚Œć‚‰ćÆē§ć®ę—„ęœ¬ć®ēµŒéØ“ć‚’č”Øć—ć¾ć™ć€‚

ćŠć›ć‚“ć¹ć„ć®ę—„ē§ćÆćŠć„ć—ć„ć›ć‚“ć¹ć„ć‚’ä½œć‚Šć¾ć—ćŸć€‚ćć‚ŒćÆē§ć®ćÆć˜ć‚ć¦ć®ćŠć›ć‚“ć¹ć„ć‚’é£Ÿć¹ćŸę—„ć§ćć†ć—ć¦ē§ćŒä½œć£ćŸćŠć›ć‚“ć¹ć„ć®å‘³ćÆꄉåæ«ć§ć—ćŸć€‚

ꬔćÆ銭ę¹Æć«č”Œć£ćŸę™‚ć§ć™ć€‚ę—„ęœ¬ć§ćć‚ŒćÆē§ć®äø€ē•Ŗ恓悏恄ēµŒéØ“ć§ć™ć€‚ć‚¢ćƒ”ćƒŖ悫恫ćÆęÆ”ć¹ć‚‹ć‚‚ć®ćÆć‚ć‚Šć¾ć›ć‚“ć€‚ćƒćƒ¬ćƒŖć‚¢ćØå½¼å„³ć®ļ¼¬ļ¼°ćØć„ć£ć—ć‚‡ć«č”Œćć¾ć—ćŸć€‚ćØć£ć¦ć‚‚ę„½ć—ć‹ć£ćŸēµ†ć®ēµŒéØ“ć§ć™ć€‚éŠ­ę¹Æ恮ē‰›ä¹³ć‚‚ćÆćŠć„ć—ć‹ć£ćŸć§ć™ļ¼ä»Šć‚‚ē§ćÆćć®ē‰›ä¹³ćƒćƒ¼ć‚ŗć‚’č¦šćˆć¦ć„ć¾ć™ć€‚

äø‰ē•Ŗē›®ćÆļ¼¤ļ½‰ļ½“ļ½Žļ½…ļ½™ļ½Œļ½ļ½Žļ½„ć§ć™ć€‚ćć®ę™‚ć«ē§ćÆć‚øć‚§ćƒć‚·ć‚¹ć®äŗŗćŸć”ć‚„ćŸć‚“ć ć²ć‚ć—ć•ć‚“ćØ仲č‰Æ恏ćŖć‚Šć¾ć—ćŸć€‚ē§ćŸć”ćÆćŸćć•ć‚“ć®ę„½ć—ć„ć‚¢ćƒˆćƒ©ć‚Æć‚·ćƒ§ćƒ³ć‚’ä¹—ć£ć¦ć„ć‚‹ć‚ć„ćŸē§ćŸć”ć®å›½ć®ę–‡åŒ–ć«ć¤ć„ć¦č©±ć‚’ć—ć¾ć—ćŸć€‚ćØć£ć¦ć‚‚é¢ē™½ć‹ć£ćŸć§ć™ć€‚

ęœ€å¾ŒćÆļ¼Ŗļ½…ļ½Žļ½…ļ½“ļ½™ļ½“ļ¼¦ļ½…ļ½“ļ½”ļ½‰ļ½–ļ½ļ½Œć§ć™ć€‚ćć®ćƒ•ć‚§ć‚¹ćƒćƒćƒ«ćŒļ¼”ļ¼¦ļ¼³ć®åæƒć‚’ꏏ恏ćØę€ć„ć¾ć™ć€‚ć‚¤ćƒ™ćƒ³ćƒˆć®ćƒ†ćƒ¼ćƒžćÆå‹ęƒ…ćØē†č§£ć€äŗŒć¤ćØ悂ē§ćÆč¦‹ć¤ć‘ćŸć€‚

                ļ¼”ļ¼¦ļ¼³ćØē§ć®ćƒ›ć‚¹ćƒˆćƒ•ć‚”惟ćƒŖćÆęÆŽę—„åŠ±ć¾ć—ć¦ćć‚Œć¾ć—ćŸć€‚ę™‚ć€…ē§ćÆåæƒé…ć—ćŸć‚Šć‚¹ćƒˆćƒ¬ć‚¹ć‚’ć‹ć‚“ć˜ć¾ć—ćŸć€‚ć—ć‹ć—ć€ęÆŽę—„å¤§åˆ‡ćŖäŗŗ恌ē§ć‚’åŠ©ć‘ć¦ćć‚Œć¾ć—ćŸć€‚ē§ćÆćæ悓ćŖć•ć‚“ć‚’ćœć£ćŸć„ć«åæ˜ć‚Œć¾ć›ć‚“ļ¼

                ļ¼”ļ¼¦ļ¼³ćØē§ć®ćƒ›ć‚¹ćƒˆćƒ•ć‚”惟ćƒŖ态ćæ悓ćŖć•ć‚“ćŠć‹ć’ć§ęœ¬å½“ć«ę„½ć—ćéŽć”ć—ć¾ć—ćŸć€‚ę—„ęœ¬ć«ć„ć‚‹é–“ć«ē§ćÆč‡Ŗåˆ†ć®åæƒćŒęˆé•·ć—ć¾ć—ćŸć€‚ćć®äø­ć§ć‚‚ć“ć‚ćŒć‚‰ćŖ恄恓ćØ恌äø€ē•Ŗé‡č¦ćŖć§ć™ć€‚å®Œē’§ćŖę–‡ę³•ćÆ恄恄恧恙恑恩åæƒé…ć—ćŖ恄恧恏恠恕恄怂äŗŗćŸć”ćŒč‡Ŗåˆ†ć®ćƒć‚¤ćƒ³ćƒˆć‚’åˆ†ć‹ć‚‹ć€ćć‚Œć§ć„ć„ć§ć™ć€‚ćć†ć—ć¦ć€ęœŖę„ć®ē•™å­¦ē”ŸćøćŒć‚“ć°ć£ć¦ćć ć•ć„ļ¼ęœ¬å½“恫ē§ć®åæƒć‹ć‚‰ć‚ć‚ŠćŒćØć†ć”ć–ć„ć¾ć—ćŸļ¼ć“ć®å…­ć‹ęœˆē§ćÆćØć£ć¦ć‚‚å¬‰ć—ć‹ć£ćŸć§ć™ć€‚
Honestly, I'm rather proud of it.

The third speech is my school asking me to write a brief goodbye speech which I have to say in front of my school year. I kept it short...two paragraphs, mostly just saying what a wonderful time I had, thank you, I won't forget you and other general mushy stuff.

So now that they're all written...next comes the practice, because my reading lacks flow. *Sigh* More work for me...why couldn't I just get to relax?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Enoshima: The Heavenly Maiden and the Dragon

This past Monday was a national holiday -- Mountain Day -- so, of course, Troy and I headed to the beach instead. Well, to an island near a beach since (as some of you may know) I'm not exactly the beach-going type. Plus I'd just climbed Mount Fuji, which was more than enough mountain for me. Enoshima is a small island off the coast of Kanagawa Prefecture, fairly near Kamakura. It's connected to the mainland via a bridge, so you can just stroll on over from the train station. The entire island is dedicated to Benzaitan, the goddess of everything that flows -- time, water, speech, music, and knowledge. According to the "Enoshima Engi," (a history of the shrines and temples on Enoshima) there's also a legend associated with the creation of the island involving Benzaitan and a dragon. In brief, the area around Enoshima was once wracked by violent storms and earthquakes. Eventually the tumult ended and a heavenly maiden (Benzaitan) descended from the clouds....

Homecoming

This is it. It's Friday, February 3rd and in less than 24 hours I will leave this house for Tokyo train station, which will take me to the airport, which will take me...home. Most of this week has been taken up with goodbyes: to schoolmates and teachers, and later, close friends. There were tears involved. I think the photos will do it a lot more justice than I could: Kohei, from tennis group. All the tennis people got together for dinner at an okonomiyaki (think cabbage pancake, with yummy stuff like shrimp in it) but first we went to a boardwalk which had nighttime light shows. Top: Anime Club. They threw a small party for me, where we ate lots of food and watched (what else) anime and talked. Bottom: one of my English classes. They asked me to teach them an American game for the last day, so I taught everyone how to play Heads-Up 7-Up. They were pretty good at it. The other exchange student, Nom, and my Japanese teacher. The last view of school: the walk leading u...

Reflections on Typhoon Hagibis

As some of you may have known, this past weekend Typhoon Hagibis blew through Japan, specifically the Kanto region where Tokyo is. It had the grim distinction of being the strongest/most deadly storm to hit the region since Typhoon Ida in 1958. Typhoon classification scales are confusing (and, interestingly, the only difference between a "typhoon" and a "hurricane" is the naming convention of the region in which it occurs ), but at one point Hagibis was classified as a "violent typhoon," the strongest category the Japan Meteorological Agency has, roughly the equivalent of a Category 5 hurricane. Fortunately it didn't make landfall at that strength, downgrading to a Category 3 equivalent storm. Personally, although Typhoon Hagibis (which means, appropriately, "speed" in Tagalog) was not the first typhoon I've (pardon the pun) weathered here in Japan, it was most certainly the most extreme. Most typhoons don't directly hit Kanto, inst...