Thursday, August 29
Today marks my first month here in Japan; time flies when you don't know what's going on. In this month, I have eaten 17 kinds of raw fish, sweltered in 100 degree, 100% humidity days, been laughed at by eight-year old girls, been kissed by 45 year old men, been caught in typhoon downpours, been to a sex museum in a quaint fishing village, strolled Japan's finest beaches, sorted week-old garbage into seven different bags, paid $50 to have my septic-tank toilet drained, played volleyball with 60 year old women (and then given a jersey and asked to join their team), and attended a taiko (Japanese drumming) festival where candy was thrown off the roof of the hosting supermarket, all without the benefit of speaking Japanese.
You may say to yourself, "So what?" and I say that to myself sometimes too, but each day seems to be an adventure here. I never know what I am eating, never know what I am being invited to, and sometimes don't even know where I sleep. The Japanese are a queer people, live in a queer place, and have many queer customs. For any of these oddities, the expats call it "The Japanese Way."
But the Japanese are lovely and giving, generous and kind in a contagious way. They may eat raw horse meat and fish eyes, but they will insist on bringing gifts they can't afford each time they visit your home. They will drink beer until their wobbling foreheads meet the table's edge, but they will insist on pouring your glass first, even if it is already full.
And so the answer to the question, "So what?" is answered now with "so different." Japan is so unbelievably contrary to my previous frame of reference that it almost requires a laundry list of eccentricities.
When each teacher leaves my office at the end of the day, they don't say goodbye or good night, but instead, to no one in particular: "You have worked very hard, you must be tired," and they exit. Its as if they are begging the rest of the teachers to leave with them.
And though staying at work until at least sundown is commonly expected, if the vice principal is hungover, its natural for him to go home at 11AM.
Its hard to say if these oddities are the norm. Usually teachers will stay all day at work, even if there is a family emergency. One of the English teachers I assist has two babies in the hospital, and he still thinks it necessary to be at the ping pong team's tournament rather than his wife's side.
And vacation is unheard of, even during the time they call "Summer Vacation". Students and teachers alike are at school every day, doing club activities or smoking cigarettes, respectively. On occasion, one teacher will be gracious enough to gargle loudly in the teacher's lounge or perhaps brush his teeth while telling you about the next club activity.
Like America, Japan's people are defined by what they do, but they don't seem to mind as much as Americans (or maybe they just don't complain as much). Societal pressures won't allow the common laborer expressing his disgust. Speaking one's mind is tantamount to a slap in the face.
Just another example of "The Japanese Way."
