Chapter 413: Reading
Hiragana, katakana and kanji were the three primary reading characters in modern Japan. During his travels and visits throughout Asia, Kazi learned and memorized every facet of Japanese linguistics. He further developed his understanding and mastery when he visited Japan and the small islands. Every dialect, how to use a brush and stroke a kanji, he learned it all. Here in this era, it was not exactly the same as it was there. Since they were at the literal start of Edo era, a period of transition, Chinese influence reigned supreme and a writing system known as Kanbun was used by officials. Kanbun was Japanese writing using Classical Chinese.
In general, kanji mixed with hiragana was common for personal letters, while kanji-only kanbun was used for official or public documents. Poetry and very personal letters often used fewer kanji and mostly hiragana. Books printed entirely in hiragana were made for those with limited literacy.
So Kazi had to choose what to teach them to read. He decided to go with kanji.
These boys and girls were smart; and no, he was not praising them. They were close to being geniuses. All of them. In half a day of study, they had memorized twenty-seven words. Although it was to be somewhat expected given they were children and surrounded by the language, Kazi was impressed nonetheless. He didn’t expect them to be this adept. Oh, sure, they were a far cry from learning sentences. Yet, in Kazi’s estimation, in a month or so they would be able to be completely fluent in reading.
Except Yuna.
While the kids laughed and talked, treating the learning process like a game (which he encouraged), Kazi had do some one-on-one teaching with Yuna. Brows furrowed, a brush patting her hair, she thought deeply and then spoke an incorrect word. It was a pretty bad guess too.
"Not quite, Yuna," he said, his tone even and patient, though there was a firm undercurrent in his voice. "This isn’t a guessing game. Look again. Focus."
Yuna’s small hands clenched into fists at her sides. Her lips pressed together in frustration, but she nodded. Kazi could see the storm in her eyes—embarrassment, determination, and something else, something fragile.
He picked up his brush and drew the kanji on the paper once more, this time in deliberate, exaggerated strokes, slowing down for her benefit. "This is yama. Mountain. See how the strokes rise and fall like peaks? Picture it in your mind—strong, unmoving. A mountain doesn’t waver."
Not all students were the same. Not everyone was a genius that caught on fast. Speaking out a word and regurgitating it; not everyone could do it.
Yuna stared at the brush as if willing the word to take root in her mind. Kazi watched her carefully, noting the tight line of her mouth, the quiver in her brow. She wanted to understand, but her frustration was tangling her thoughts.