Edited yet again!!!
So basically I've asked five different Japanese friends and coworkers about the possible name of my hairstylist, and they've all given me different answers. Screw em all. I finally got online and looked up a page of Japanese names for women, and guess what? Hizuru *is* a Japanese girl's name. I *did* hear it right. Christ. Tadashi told me it had to be Hizuri. Hiromi told me it would have to be Hitomi. Fujita sensei told me Chizuru was the only name like that she knew. Nagasawa sensei said maybe it was some other name I forget now. Whatever. I was right, and feel idiotic for doubting what I knew I heard in the first place. Bah! I will have to get good enough at Japanese so one day I can tell Hizuru how much frustration her name has caused me.
So I have this huge crush on my hairstylist Hizuru. I've had it since she first cut my hair last month. The first couple of haircuts I got here were nice and all, but I couldn't quite communicate how I REALLY wanted it cut, so it always just came out really really short. Hizuru showed up the third time I went to get my haircut and had resigned myself to semi-bowl cut look, and she worked wonders for me. She knows just a little english, but it helps immensely. She lived in Australia for half a year, so she has the basic grammar and some basic words, so she can ask me things like, "How long? You like this? More? Shorter? Longer?" Since that first session we had last month when she made me very happy, I've asked around for good haircut vocabulary, and went in armed to the tooth with words tonight. The guys who run the cash register and wash hair gave me to her because no one else speaks English there so they sort of flake out if someone else has to cut my hair. I think mainly because they're afraid they'll fuck it up not understanding me and I'll be upset or something. In any case, the great thing about Hizuru is that she tries really hard to speak to me in English and asks me to correct her, and while she's trying hard to speak English, I'm trying hard to answer her in Japanese. She corrects me too. Tonight she asked, "You believe in Santa?" and I cracked up laughing. She was very proud of her little joke, smiling coyly. I told her when I was a child I believed in Santa. We kept up this silly banter, half in English and half in Japanese, sounding like complete idiots I'm sure, but we had a good time. And the really great thing about Hizuru is that even though her coworkers very obviously look at us like we're stupid lamoids, neither of us able to really talk really good in each other's language, she doesn't care. She does it anyway. When I was getting ready to leave tonight, she walked me to the door and held it up for me and I told her, "Anata no namae wa wasuremashita." I forgot your name. (This was the big drama last month because when she had told me her name, I heard it wrong, and none of my Japanese friends could figure out what it would be from the syllables I had retained. Christ, I've probably got it wrong now, but she nodded when I said it tonight). She said, "I remember your name! You are Chris," and I smiled and she said her name for me again, and I repeated it several times, her nodding (hence thinking I've got it right this time). And then I told her, "Kondo watashi wa wasurenaide." Next time I won't forget. She held out her pinky finger then with this really beautiful smile and said, "Yakusoku." Promise.
Egah. What a heartbreaker.