【「おらず」か「いなく」か】

「バランスがとれておらず」
「～を理解しておらず」
「～のレベルに達しておらず」

これらを、

「バランスがとれていなく」
「～を理解していなく」
「～のレベルに達していなく」

とする表現を見かけることが最近非常に多い。まがりなりにも「書くこと」をおマンマの種にしている人の文章においても、頻繁に見かける。たとえばこのようなやや堅めの記事にも「いなく」が出てくる。

何度読んでみても、日本語としてどうにも不自然な感じがして背中がむずむずする。

「いなく」の後には「て」がなければおさまりが悪い。

「バランスがとれていなくて」
「～を理解していなくて」
「～のレベルに達していなくて」

こうするものだと私は思っている。あるいは、

「バランスがとれていないので／とれていないため／とれていないがゆえに・・・etc」

など、書き方のバリエーションはいくらでもある。なぜわざわざ「～いなく」を選択するのだろう？たとえて言うならば、敬語を正しく学んでこなかった若者が就活を前に慌てて敬語の勉強を始めたはいいが、付け焼き刃ゆえにトンチンカンな言い回しになってしまったようなぎこちなさを感じるのだが、書く方も読む方も何も感じないのだろうか？それとも、こんな「些末な」ことにとやかく言う私の方がおかしいのだろうか？

私にはそれがどうにも「腑に落ちなく」「納得がいかなく」「しっくりこなく」・・・。

History repeats itself?

Quoting an article in GOOD;
【The Outdoor Office: Better for Morale and the Environment】

The picture of "The Outdoor Office" would possibly remind some Japanese grandma and grandpa who are over 75 of "Aozora Kyoshitsu," or "Open-air Classrooms" they used to learn at after the Second World War.

Intense bombings in many cities in Japan destructed a lot of school buildings, leaving young students no place to read and write the way they did with their classmates. All they could do was just gather to an open space where school buildings used to stand and brought wooden chairs that have survived the bombings. No blackboards. No chalks. Not all the students had their own textbooks. Sometimes a couple of kids had to share one book.

Notice the smiles on the students' faces. They must have been really delighted to learn even though they didn't have a classroom. They were thirsty for knowledge as well as a proper place to learn. On rainy days, however, they could not attend these open-air lessons. They had to stay home. To get away from this inconvenience, constructions of new school buildings began soon everywhere in Japan.

During the constructions, students had to borrow some space in other schools that were not severely damaged by the bombings. After school, they would be pulled into hard work of sweeping debris, land-clearing etc. A grandpa recalls; "I joined the construction operation as soon as I entered a junior high school in 1946. It was so hard. I liked the work, though. Because I couldn't wait to see a brand new building set up by our own hands. But I could not see it completed before I graduated. It was done in October in 1949. I have to admit I was a little bit sorry but when I attended the completion ceremony, I was proud of what I did."

Over sixty years later, an open-air space for working and learning has come up for discussion. People once desired to draw away from inconvenience. Contrariwise, an idea has come out to edge out the very asset into which people put forth the effort.

History repeats itself? Or should I say, history retrace itself?

Who could it be the one to do such a cruel thing? – A sad memory in my childhood

【Translated my own post in Japanese on Facebook】

When I was a little kid, my family had two female cats. One was Cheeko, a dark-brown mackerel tabby and the other was Meeko, a calico cat. Meeko was calm and meek, while Cheeko was lively and cheerful.

We lived in a shabby one-story house that had a narrow board outside before the window to put flower pots on. In front of the window inside there was a desk which I studied at in the living room. Every night around 8 o’clock, Cheeko jumped onto my desk and went meow-meow, asking for us to open the window for a short walk. Mom or I would slide it open for her. Cheeko jumped off the board equipped at the height of 4 or 5 feet from the ground. She would come back in an hour or so. After her night patrol, she jumped onto the board, went meow-meow again and we let her in. It was our daily routine, sort of.

I recall that it was around this time of year, an autumn night. Cheeko went out for a walk as usual but she didn’t come back in a couple of hours. What’s worse, it had begun to rain so hard.
“Could she find a place to hide from the rain?”
“Didn’t she get wet?”
Mom and I were becoming worried. The windier it got before long, the more anxious we were. Though we were still uneasy, Mom tried to stay calm saying that she was sure that Cheeko would come back by the next morning. Reassured, my sister and I went to bed.

While we were dreaming in bed around 2 a.m., Mom woke up to the sound of the wind that made the window clatter. She stood up, went to the restroom and came back to the living room, when she heard another noise that went “Scratch, scratch…” It must be Cheeko, she expected, and opened the curtain to find our darling cat, all-soaked, squatting on the board over the window.

“Oh, sweetie, how miserable…”

She opened the window in haste. Cheeko staggered onto my desk. The kitty seemed to be trying to go meow-meow but in vain. Cheeko’s eyes were filled with big tears. The next moment, Mom caught her breath. She found a thick rope for packaging tied severalfold around the kitty’s neck.

The knot was way too tight to loosen with her fingers. She thought of cutting the rope with scissors but it bit so deeply into her neck that the scissors’ tips could never go between the firmly bound strings. Desperately, she cut the rope little by little until she could manage to rescue the kitty from the tragedy in nearly 10 minutes.

Meeko was asleep before she woke up to the noise and dashed towards Cheeko. Looking at the soaked, trembling companion in tears, she lay next to Cheeko and kept licking her as long as she was content.

At the breakfast table the next morning, Mom told us kids about everything that happened. Both of us burst into tears. The grilled fish Mom prepared for us tasted a little bit saltier than usual. We used to leave a piece of scorched fish skin for Cheeko and Meeko. But on that morning, we agreed to give up some extra fish flesh for them. Making sure that the kitties came in for their share, we went out for school.