Homogeneous
A lot of people complain about the US being so isolated. We don’t understand other cultures, we’re ignorant, we’re arrogant, we’re isolated. I got news for you, world:
We ain’t that bad.
I want you to imagine a country filled with white people. Not only that, but white people all from the same country. No immigrants. Everyone’s local. Everyone has exactly the same cultural background, no variations. You look around, and everyone is
just
like
you.
That’s Japan. Does Japan have culture? Absolutely. It has Japanese culture. It knows Japanese culture. But aside from that, that’s really about it. It is a truly homogeneous culture.
Yeah, I guess America’s not Europe with all those cool countries smashed together and so many opportunities to travel. (Which, by the way Americans, is blown out of proportion. Travelling inside Europe is still pretty expensive.) But we’re culturally aware. We have a variety of religions and religious holidays. We enjoy tons of food. And we like to experience other cultures. The average American can explain Ramadan, the secular celebration of Christmas, Hanukkah, Passover, tattoos, piercings, how different Christian sects differ, where different breads come from in the world, how to use chopsticks, and the origin of Santa Claus. That American has probably also been inside a cathedral, a synagouge, and maybe even a mosque, no matter what the person’s religion is. Additionally, you can probably ask the average American what his/her favorite food and drink is by major country.
Japan, on the other hand, knows only Japan. I get that. What I don’t get, though, is the experience part. I don’t get why it’s so fascinating to Japanese people that I can use chopsticks, sleep on a futon, eat and cook Japanese food, and like to play Go. It’s as if Japanese people expect me to know what those things are, instead of doing them. I love to experience Japan.
Shallow
There’s a strange feeling that comes over me when I run into foreigners (i.e., non-Japanese) people in Japan.
In the beginning, I’d be curious. Depending on the situation (bar) I might even go up and introduce myself to them. Finding a foreign person, someone you could actually talk to, was like finding the one kind of jellybean you want in a bag.
But then something interesting happened. I realized that, despite having moved halfway across the world to be here, despite having a similar job or age, a lot of us didn’t really get along.
Go figure.
I was talking to a friend of mine about it one day.
“I don’t get it. We’re all adults. But sometimes there’s a lot of drama in these foreigner circles,” I said. “We’re all alone here. In this together. Shouldn’t we band together and make this experience like the greatest thing ever?”
My friend had a good explanation as to why my foreigner utopia does not exist.
“When you have a relationship for shallow reasons, you have a shallow relationship,” he said. “Speaking English is a shallow reason.”
It made me think of all the Japanese people I already have connections with. I’m better friends with some of them than I am with the foreigners. Because we have similar hobbies or beliefs. And yeah, there’s a language barrier. But there’s an unspoken belief that we get each other, more so than a lot of people I know who speak English.
In a way, the language I don’t speak with my Japanese friends says more than the English I do speak with some foreigners I know.
My friend’s comment makes me reflect on what my relationships are based on. Something meaningful, like appreciating the same things?
… Or something shallow, like speaking the same language?
The Pain
And so it is that my trip back home has come to an end. I begin to feel something all-too-familiar.
It’s the catch 22. The snag. The hook.
Or the cost. It’s the cost of the adventure, the travel.
Lots of people say they love to travel. They love to experience another culture. This is only partially true. It would be more accurate if these people said, “I love to be a tourist.”
There is nothing wrong with being a tourist. I’ve been a tourist in several countries. You learn from being a tourist, and it’s also a lot of fun.
But there is a difference between being a tourist and an alien. The biggest difference is this catch 22, this pain that most aliens know. We never talk about it. Maybe because it’s understood- we all know it, and we all know that it is what it is, and there is nothing to be done about it. It is not heavy, but it is always there. It is our silent passenger. It is the weight in each of our hearts that we hide in every snapshot of us doing something cool.
It is the pain of leaving our families and homes. The price of the adventure is high. But you get what you pay for.
I miss Japan. I miss my Japanese friends, my apartment, speaking Japanese. And when I’m there, I miss my American friends, my home, my family.
But I do love to travel. And this is the cost.
Stop SOPA
Hey everyone- this blog is moving to a host that doesn’t support SOPA. If you are using Go Daddy, STOP NOW and transfer to another host.
You may experience some downtime as this blog is transferred.
SOPA is basically an attempt by corporations to censor the internet. It is parading around as a support of copyright laws. This is false.
I support copyright law. I do not support corporate censorship.
If you haven’t read about SOPA (because most major news networks don’t cover it; their corporate interests support SOPA), you can find more information here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stop_Online_Piracy_Act
[EDIT: Go Daddy has since turned around their support of policy. They claim to no longer support SOPA. Too late, in my opinion. The blog has moved to Name Cheap.]
Christmas
Christmas in Japan is strange. As foreigners living in Japan, we often comment or make jokes about the misinterpretation of holidays.
But, unfortunately, there is nothing funny about this. Christmas in America is becoming what Christmas in Japan already is- a hollow, commercial holiday. Christmas has been interpreted as a day of giving gifts and getting lucky.
No family.
No Jesus.
I’m not sure if many Japanese people are even aware that Christmas is (used to be?) a religious day. Even with the continued secularization of Christmas in the US, the day still holds a sense of sacredness. There are traditions, stories, and values on Christmas, even for the secular. Family time. Not working. Giving to the poor.
I hope that this lack of depth in Japanese Christmas reflects the novelty of the holiday- and not shallowness. Much like Halloween, I get the feeling that Christmas is an infant holiday, growing at a rapid rate. I want to see the identity of this day grow.
On another note, I was Santa Clause the other day for Elementary School. I was partially sickened, partially angered.
“Do you want me to speak Japanese to the children?”
“No! Santa Clause speaks English!”
I am afraid that Japanese children are learning that Christmas is an American (not Christian) holiday when a fat, white, monolingual man brings people presents. I told a friend that they should make Santa a Japanese man in Japan, and he should speak Japanese.
“But can you really picture Father Christmas as a Japanese man?” he asked.
“They have black Jesuses in Africa,” I replied. “Why not?”
Even the Japanese saying of “Merry Christmas” upsets me. Japan needs to have it own (Japanese) phrase for Christmas.
